Caught Between Destiny and Fate
by An Origami Fish
Summary: The Yuuzhan Vong War is over, but what now? How does one pick up the pieces of a shattered galaxy? How does one live a normal life after fighting for so long? Just because the heroes of the war got their happy endings doesn't mean everyone else was as fortunate. An interlude for my AU EU NJO universe that will bridge the events of aDA to its equally AU EU sequel.
1. Chapter 1

Living in the Past

_I remember the days before Yavin, when we were all young, armored with the invincibility of youth and fired by the belief that the Emperor's evil Empire could not win. It didn't, but the cost was more terrible than any of us could have imagined._

-Wedge Antilles

**]-(I)-[ ]-(I)-[**

"I'm sorry, Kel, but I have to do it." Jalinae's face was devoid of emotion as she glanced at the survivors of the Death Knights. They had started out as a close group of twenty-two friends, all mourning losses and bearing grudges against the harsh universe and the war being waged.

There were now only five of them left.

That same war that had bond them together having swallowed everyone else and left their corpses scattered throughout the galaxy. The various nightlife of Zonama Sekot echoed in the background as the five of them stood by their X-wings in a small clearing on the living planet. The war had ended a week earlier, but it didn't mean that everyone would have the happy ending they deserved.

Jalinae kept her arms folded in front of her chest as she shook her head. "I can't stay with the Order, not when they want to make peace with the scarheads. This life…getting vengeance is all I know. The scarheads don't deserve the second chance they're being given. My family is dead, the Death Knights are dead, the galaxy is in ruins. It's over, done, finished. I have to leave, I just have to."

"I too am leaving," Nixa, the Tranoshan Jedi Knight hissed softly. "Though I honor my debt to you, Waxarn Kel, I cannot abide by the peace that has been negotiated. There is a reason why Trandoshans do not make good Jedi; and that is because we must continue to live a life of violence, of aggressiveness, to appease our goddess. The culture of the Jedi and the culture of the Trandoshan are incompatible in times of peace. I must likewise find my own way in this galaxy, and cannot do it with the Jedi Council looking over my shoulder."

"I guess I'll be the third one out then," Maez said, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, Kel, there's just too many ghosts. I've talked with Master Durron, and he's okayed my request to become an Unknown Regions explorer. I just can't stay with the rest of you without thinking about the war, about everything and everyone I've lost."

"But, but what's going to happen to the Death Knights then?" Sixteen year old Si'ada whispered, looking stricken as she gaze at her older friends.

"Gone, kid," Jalinae said, her expression softened for the slightest of moments. "Most of us are dead, one with the Force. The rest of us are just waiting for death to catch up."

"But…no!" Si'ada protested. "No, the war's over! Why do you have to go your separate ways? We can get through it again, like we did during the war. We have a Force bond. Aren't we a family? Waxarn, you're not going to let them go, are you?"

Waxarn Kel held the fearful and panicked gaze of the youngest member of their group, his heart heavy. As the leader of the tight-knit group he had felt every single death, felt every single time a Death Knight rejoined the Force. And it never got easier. He had taken all of them in, helped them come to terms with their grief and gotten to know each and everyone one of them in the process. He had understood all of their suffering, had taken upon himself to help them carry their burdens, and together they had become their own little community; sharing their grief and rage. They were his friends, his family, the reason why _he_ had remained sane in the war despite everything that had occurred.

His answer must have shown on his face, because Si'ada took a step back, shaking her head.

"No, please, Waxarn. Please! I already lost my family on Sernpidal, I can't lose another."

"I'm sorry Si'ada," Waxarn managed, his throat tight. The others looked away from the young teen, guilt and regret escaping tightly controlled emotional barriers. "But they have a right to do as they wish. If remaining a part of the Death Knights will only cause them pain, if staying with the Order will only increase their suffering, I have to agree to their requests."

"No," Si'ada whimpered falling to her knees and shaking her head. She looked up at the others, tears in her eyes as she smiled almost desperately. "The war's over. We're all supposed to live out the rest of our lives happily, together, fighting off the dark side and whatever stupid things this galaxy has to throw at us. We're the Death Knights, a team. Please you guys, don't do this."

"Look after her, Waxarn?" Jalinae swallowed heavily.

"Yeah," Waxarn breathed.

Jalinae nodded once. "It's been an honor."

"You too. May the Force be with you."

"It's never been with me so far. Why would it start now?" Jalinae shrugged, pulling on her flight helmet.

"Jalinae!" Si'ada sprung to her feet and ran to the older woman, wrapping her arms around her in a fierce hug.

Stiff at first, the older Knight eventually relaxed and wrapped her arms around Si'ada in return. "Take care of yourself, Little Ada. Hope you have a better life than I've had."

"Don't go," Si'ada said in a little girl voice.

"I have to," Jalinae whispered, her own eyes suspiciously moist. "I just can't stay. Please understand that."

Si'ada stepped back, her head bowed as tears flowed unrestrictedly down her cheeks. "Be careful out there."

"I will," Jalinae said, flashing her and the others a forced smile. "Well, I guess I'm off."

The others waved half-heartedly as Jalinae climbed into her fighter. Once seated, the pilot gave everyone one last long look, before closing the canopy. In another few seconds, the fighter had lifted off and disappeared into the darkness of space.

Slowly, as if dreading it, Si'ada looked to the others, a silent plea on her face.

"I'm sorry," Maez echoed. "Please kid, don't look at me like."

"If I keep doing it, will you stay?" Si'ada said in a weak laugh.

Maez exhaled, his eyes closed. "The Death Knights have been every bit a family to me as it has been to you, Si'ada. But the Death Knights isn't the same any more. Everyone else is gone. All our friends, everyone who's been with us since the start of the war, even before that. If I'm ever going to recover from this war, it can't be while I'm surrounded by constant reminders of everyone we've lost."

Si'ada stepped forward and hugged Maez as well.

"We'll see each other again," Maez said softly, rubbing her back as she began to sob. "And it's not like our Force bond will just evaporate. If you ever need me, Si'ada, I'm just a hypercomm call away."

Si'ada stepped back once more, watching helplessly as Maez, and then Nixa, boarded their fighters and rocketed away. She hugged herself in the silence that followed the roar of the X-wing engines, tears still flowing down her cheek.

"Si'ada," Waxarn said softly.

"Please, can I just be alone for a little bit?" Si'ada whispered softly.

"Yeah, sure." Waxarn used the Force to send his apologies. For once he had no answer, no way to comfort the distraught girl. "Si'ada."

"Yeah?"

"I'm leaving to help Ramis and Sebatyne restart the Yavin Four Praxeum tomorrow morning. If you want, you can come with me."

Si'ada just nodded, sitting back on the dirt ground and forlornly staring up at the stars.

Waxarn closed his eyes, turning away. Si'ada was a tough girl. He could only pray that time would heal the wounds.

**]-(II)-[ ]-(II)-[**

_One Year Later_

The Jedi Praxeum on Yavin Four bore little resemblance to its predecessor. In fact, it was almost unrecognizable. When the Yuuzhan Vong had temporarily garrisoned the planet, they had squashed the millennia old Massassi temple with their unique organic buildings. When they left, there was nothing left of the temple except for its catacombs. Large chunks of moss covered stone, partially digested by the creatures the alien invaders had brought in, littered a grounds marked by blast craters and ash. The damage the Yuuzhan Vong had inflicted on the surrounding area was likewise great. Whole swaths of forest on the southern end had been cleared to make a landing area for Yuuzhan Vong vessels, and much of the wildlife had been scared away to other parts of the forest. The entire eco-system around the old praxeum had been thrown out of sync with the rest of the planet, and much healing needed to be done.

Assigned to such a monumental task were Octa Ramis, Saba Sebatyne, and Waxarn Kel. All three had been promoted to the rank of Master a few months after the war had ended, and then put in charge with reviving the ancient teachings that had occurred before the onset of the war. But being the people that they were, they added their own twists to the project they had been handed.

Rather than reconstruct the ancient temple, or try to restore some semblance of familiarity, the trio of Jedi decided that they rather liked the rugged, non-uniform setting of the area. After surveying the area and conferring with one and other, they abandoned the whole 'we're ancient mystic warriors and designated protectors of peace' theme for a more survival-camp-meets-facing-your-inner-nature-to-make-you-stronger tone. They were in a new era, the trio argued, and a new era called for a different method of teaching and learning.

It was wholly unique, controversial, but happily embraced by the students that trained on the planet. Most all of the students had been mere children during the start of the Yuuzhan Vong War, and had been greatly traumatized by all the deaths and suffering they had felt and experienced. To help these young Force sensitives cope, they were not only taught that fear and anger were _not _bad, but that if they gained control of their feelings they'd be stronger for it. Aggression was okay, but only in moderation—too much aggression would only hurt the people around you even further.

The emerging teaching philosophies of the Yavin IV Praxeum were heavily influenced by Kyp Durron's own viewpoints. The older Master had at one time been both Waxarn and Octa's mentor and master, and much of his beliefs and practices had rubbed off onto the two of them. The Jedi were being trained to fight, to defend, to not sit idly by while those around them suffered. Regardless of the cost to fellow Jedi, they were taught that the peace and well-being of the galaxy came first. Teamwork was prized, as was the ability to independently come up with unorthodox solutions and alternative possibilities to a wide variety of challenges.

Saba Sebatyne's own unique view of the Force, and the predatory-like way her mind worked, could also be seen in the lessons being taught. She took the knowledge she had imparted onto the Wild Knights and applied it to those at the praxeum. 'Packs' of Jedi were forming, a unique meld technique which allowed them to rapidly share information, support, and strength over a good bit of distance. The students were taught to 'embrace their inner-predatory instincts' yet retain the mind and logical thoughts of a Jedi. Her teachings, when combined with the Durronian Force philosophies, created a truly exclusive learning experience at the newly re-opened Jedi Praxeum.

The layout of the praxeum was a fair embodiment of the 'survival camp' atmosphere that now permeated the air. The grounds around the fallen Massassi temple catered to the twenty-seven students present, and had been divided up into four sections; training, dining, relaxing, and a place for the living quarters.

The living quarters themselves were probably one-of-a-kind in terms of their appearance. Those coming to the academy made their own shelters with help from their 'pack-mates', so pre-fab buildings were mixed with wooden or stone huts and animal-skin tents. Many used the old blast craters to add a second, underground level, to their dwellings. While some decided that they liked living in the treetops and created literal tree-houses for themselves.

The area for relaxing encompassed the winding river and nearby lakeside, although it sometimes doubled as a training area for specific lessons. For example, the Palace of the Woolamander, in which Anakin and Tahiri had found Ikrit and the golden globe, was still extremely powerful in the Force. The dark side of it. Much like with the cave at Dagobah, Octa, Waxarn, and Saba used the abandoned temple to get the students used to what the dark side of the Force felt like. Ironically enough, the same manifestations of the followers who still served Exar Kun in death ended up becoming a teaching tool for the next generation of Jedi.

The true training took place in the cleared-out area south of the temple, and the vast tracks of land beyond it. The students learned to use their abilities not by floating rocks or facing off against remotes, but by levitating each other to overcome obstacles, and facing off against squadrons of specially designed IG-150 J battle-droids—a collaboration between Tendrando Arms and Holowan Mechanicals. Obstacle courses with real-world threats existed for the older students and more adventurous younger ones. While true survival training was carried out when groups of students would be ferried over to the opposite side of the planet with a limited amount of supplies and told to make their way back to the academy by themselves. Unseen by them, they would be monitored from orbit and judged on their teamwork and innovation.

It truly was a new life, a new incarnation of the academy at Yavin IV, and things were definitely looking up.

Waxarn Kel shielded his eyes with a hand as he watched the approach of a Jedi Order-designated shuttle; its engine exhaust leaving white trails across the crystal clear blue sky.

"I've been talking with the Skywalkers," Octa Ramis said at his side. "It seems like this one might be better off under your direct guidance."

"I can feel the kid's anger and rage from here," Waxarn said. "Rodian, right?"

"Toile Senn," Octa confirmed. She glanced at a datapad in her hand. "Eleven years old. Lost both his parents when Rodia fell during the war. He was disciplined several times over at Ossus for getting into fights with other students and disobeying the orders from the instructors, but Tionne wanted to wait until he was a bit older before sending him over here."

"Makes sense," Waxarn commented. The Yavin IV Praxeum, as new a concept as their training methods were, and as small as the student-to-teacher ratio was, had no students under the age of eleven attending it. In many ways, it was considered the 'big kid's' school, with many of the Ossus Praxeum's students 'graduating' to the Yavin Four Praxeum during their teenage years.

"The report says that…well… that he's a good candidate for the Death Knight training," Octa Ramis said softly.

Waxarn closed his eyes, exhaling. Much like he had done during the Yuuzhan Vong War, he had taken on the praxeum's most troubled and hurting students. The training was named in honor of those he had flown with, a memory to those he had failed. After having seen the previous Death Knights fall apart due to their own rage, hatreds, and desire for revenge, Waxarn had learned his lesson.

During the war, the Death Knights had been his own friends, a family to him. But he had been grieving as well, and instead of teaching them to get over their anger and hatred, he channeled those feelings into combat situations; gave them focus so that they wouldn't destroy themselves with those negative emotions. But once the war was over, the few survivors were still angry and hateful, and it had ultimately brought about the end of the Death Knights.

Now, though, he was a Jedi Master, responsible for the future generation of Jedi. No longer was he simply giving the young Jedi an outlet to which they could channel their rage, but he was also teaching them how to master their emotions as well. An actual training regimen had been developed, drawing off several non-orthodox styles that were just as in question as the academy was.

Despite Anakin Solo's self-imposed exile to Zonama Sekot—no matter what anyone else said, Waxarn saw it as such—the young Solo had actually left a single holocron for Tionne. In it, Anakin gave a detailed account of his own Force philosophies and how he and Tahiri had helped Alema come to terms with her own rage and grief. Waxarn had studied Anakin's holocron at great lengths, and it had been the deciding factor in his own decision to restart the Death Knights.

The young Jedi selected for the Death Knight training received a specialized set of lessons on utilizing hatred and anger, allowing them to express these powerful emotions in a safe and controlled environment instead of bottling them up. They were taught to motivate themselves with their emotions, but maintain control of themselves with their minds. Sharing one's own personal trauma wasn't mandatory, but in the close-knit group that would eventually be formed, the stories would emerge anyways.

Of the twenty-seven students already at the praxeum, five of them were enrolled in the program. In a way, these five were far more powerful than their peers due to the fact that they were no longer restrained by their fragile emotional state. It also made them fiercely protective of their peers as well. In a way, the Death Knights truly did live again. Live not for themselves, but for their new friends and family.

It was a great sign of trust by the other Jedi Masters and the High Council that they even allowed the training program. After all, Waxarn's lessons were a hairsbreadth away from standard Sith teachings. Yet there was no doubt that without it, the Jedi Order would have faced actual dark Jedi in the future. For Waxarn, there was no one beyond saving, for him, and those who trained under him knew it and respected him for it.

"I kind of figured that was the case when Master Skywalker said that I should be the one teaching him," Waxarn said in response to Octa's comment. He mentally called on the other five to let them know of a new addition to their very strange family and received a cautious acknowledgment in response. All five knew just how emotionally damaged a new addition could be, having been that 'new' guy or girl at one time or another. Three of them were _still_ in the process of healing.

The shuttle touched down, and both Octa and Waxarn put on their 'welcome-to-Yavin-Four' faces. Tionne was the first to step out; the silver-haired historian smile politely at the two other Masters. She then looked over her shoulder and gestured towards someone still inside the shuttle. Reluctantly, a young Rodian stepped out. Dark eyes scanned the area, taking in the odd collection of shelters, the ruins of the temple, the training ground, everything, with barely concealed contempt.

"Masters Ramis, Kel, this is Jedi Initiate Toile Senn," Tionne introduced the young Jedi. "Toile, this is Master Octa Ramis and Master Waxarn Kel. They're two of the instructors at this praxeum."

The Rodian folded his arms in front of him and walked right up to Waxarn, tilting his chin up. In Huttese, a voice full of distain, he cocked his head to the side. "[Real Jedi Masters? Not like you, right?]"

Tionne inclined her head patiently. "They're stronger in the Force if that's what you're asking."

"[Really? He doesn't look much to me,]" The Rodian concentrated on Waxarn for a moment, his Force presence suddenly becoming red-hot. A flicker of lightning darted across his fingers, but as he raised his arm, Waxarn reached out a hand of his own and placed it on the young Rodian's shoulder. The lightning died away.

"None of that, Toile," Waxarn said coolly. "At least not here."

"[Not here?]" Toile blinked, obviously surprised that he wasn't getting lectured or disciplined.

"Not here," Waxarn repeated, letting his hand fall away. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the two of the Death Knights approach and greet him with a subtle nod. He gestured to the both of them, and when Toile turned his head to look, he let out an audible gasp of shock when the older Knights both allowed balls of blue lightning to form at their finger tips.

"[You're allowed to do that?]" Toile swallowed, his astonishment breaking through the tough aura he had been projecting. "[But Master Skywalker and the others always said that it was a dark side power, that I should control my emotions better.]"

"First lesson," Waxarn said, crouching down to be at eye-level with the child. "Concentrate on the both of them as they form the lightning, what do you feel?"

Toile, still mesmerized by the arcs of lightning dancing back and forth, took a moment to answer. "[I…they're not angry. I mean, they are, but it's not like when I do it. They're scared? Like m…like weaklings. How can they be scared and have such power?]"

"Do you want to learn how?" Waxarn asked softly. "When you're here, you'll learn that it's okay to be scared, to be angry, to hate. It's okay because we're not droids, we're living beings that _feel_ and hurt when bad things happen to us and those we care about. When you're here, you won't have to run any more. You won't have to hide and pray for someone to come and rescue you."

Toile looked back and forth between Waxarn and the two Death Knights, his emotional state running rampant. He took a step back, shaking his head and glaring up at Waxarn. "[I don't need your help! I'm already strong. I'm a Jedi. I can use the Force in way the weaklings at Ossus couldn't! When I get off this planet, I'm going to hunt down every last Vong and make them pay for what they did to my people!]"

The powerful explosion of negative energy seemed to envelope the emotionally fragile eleven year old boy. A storm of hate and rage that tried to lash out at any and everything around him.

Tionne looked as if she was going to intervene, but Octa held out her arm and shook her head.

"What happens when you're done?" Waxarn asked simply.

"[When I'm done?]" Toile blinked, again receiving a response he hadn't been expecting. His aura dimmed slightly

"Yes," Waxarn said. "When all the Vong are dead, when you've massacred the men, the women, the children, every Vong family everywhere in the galaxy. When you've killed one of them for every soul who died on Rodia. What then?"

Toile faltered, tears filling his eyes. "[Then I will have avenged my people. My family.]

"And then?"

"[Does it matter?]"

"Will killing every single Vong bring your people back?" Waxarn asked, his voice gentle as he stayed at eye-level with the child.

Toile shook his head. "[But at least the Vong won't be alive either.]"

"It hurts, doesn't it? Dwelling on the past."

"[I can take it. I'm strong, stronger than millions of other Rodians who died when I, an eight year old boy, didn't.]"

"I know it's all you have, but if you can live without that hurt, would you want to?"

Toile's confusion dampened his anger even further, his shoulders slumping. The Rodian nodded silently, not willing to say anything else.

"I may not be able to give you back the family you lost, Toile," Waxarn said, reaching out, but this time with a comforting hand. "But I can guarantee you that if you agree to stay here and train, that hurt you're feeling will grow smaller and smaller. That instead of the bad, you'll remember the good. You're right, you are powerful. And here you'll learn how to use that power to protect, to ensure that no one else has to feel the same pain you're feeling. You are not the only one who has suffered great losses. My own apprentice is from Sernpidal, and she no longer has her family _or_ her planet to return to. Yet she continues to fight for this galaxy, to defend it from those who wish to do others harm. There's already been so much hate, so much anguish, in this galaxy. Instead of adding to it, how about using that great power of yours to help heal it?"

Toile shifted, avoiding eye-contact as his mind spun around and around. Waxarn kept his hand on the Rodian's shoulder, waiting patiently for his answer.

"[Okay]," Toile whispered softly.

"Okay?"

"[I'll…try things your way. You said I can still use the lightning?]"

"We'll teach you how to perfect it," Waxarn nodded, rising back to his full height and draped an arm around the young Jedi. "And how to use it without thinking about those painful memories, without it feeling as if there was a thousand ton weight on your chest."

As Toile began to ask Waxarn question after question, the two were followed away by the other Death Knights, disappearing into the collection of training equipment and obstacle course in the southern quadrant of the praxeum.

Tionne, in the mean time, finally exhaled. "That was my first time seeing something like that. No wonder Mara smiled when I volunteered to take Toile here."

"He's in good hands," Octa smiled in understanding. "Don't worry, Waxarn and the others will take care of him."

"They really use Force Lightning?"

"They do. It's both an offensive and defensive skill, much like a lightsaber or a vibroblade. The only danger to it is allowing one's own feelings to cloud their judgment and thus losing sight of your original intentions. Most of the older students here are well versed in Force Lightning, but consider it a technique of last resort. Only Waxarn Kel's Death Knight trainees are capable of using both Force and Sith Lightning at will."

"Sith?" Tionne's eyebrows rose in alarm.

"Only when they're on missions," Octa said. "And only with permission from Waxarn, Saba, or myself."

Tionne just sighed. "Whatever happened to the simple lessons of rock-floating and boulder pushing?"

"We still have those, they're in the obstacle course," Octa jerked a finger behind her. There, several students were levitating X-wing-sized pieces of rock with their friends on top of them, or teaming up to shove an entire wall of rock down the length of a training track.

"Mara won her bet," Tionne shook her head, rubbing her face.

"Bet?"

"She said that I'd need a drink when I got back from seeing this place."

"Don't worry, the eight you've sent over from Ossus are the good little Jedi you trained them to be," Octa laughed.

"I would hope so."

"Care to stay for the night? We have room."

"What, and frighten me half to death with your philosophies, Master Ramis?" Tionne shook her head. "I need to get back to Ossus anyways. I left Mara in charge of the story-telling time and I'm really afraid of her take on some of the classic tales."

"Go on then," Octa grinned. "We're all fine over here, so don't you worry."

Tionne stepped back up into the shuttle. "It was good seeing you again, Octa. Take care now."

"Will do, may the Force be with you."

**]-(III)-[ ]-(III)-[**

_Eight Months Later_

"Again," Waxarn said coolly, striding down the line of young apprentices and knights.

There were seven of them now; a young human girl of eleven years had joined them shortly after Toile's arrival. Another orphan of the war, she had been among the more dangerous students ever brought to him. But again, there was nothing he wasn't willing to take on. Unlike Toile, who had been seeking to blame any and everything in the galaxy for the loss of his people, Maika was powered by self-loathing and a desire to force change no matter what the cost. As he had expected though, both she and Toile bonded together over their shared traumas and hatreds, and that new friendship had done much to dampen their negative feelings. The older Death Knights had also welcomed the two with cautious patience and acceptance, giving the young Jedi a place to belong.

Waxarn nodded approvingly as the seven Death Knights, ages ranging from eleven to seventeen, sent forks of pale blue lightning at specialized training dummies. "Remember, use your anger and hatred to create the lightning, but keep those emotions within yourself. Do not add to the suffering of this galaxy by venting your emotions out on another. It's okay to be hateful, to be angry, but make those emotions motivate you to make this galaxy a better place. You hate the fact that the war took your loved ones, that you no longer have a planet to go back to. Look around you, you have six others who feel just as you do. You _have_ a family right here. You _have_ a place to belong, a place to call home. Maika, Toile, up front."

The dark-haired girl with a haphazard haircut stepped forward—heavy eyeliner and dark colored clothing gave her a definite rebellious air. Toile, in similarly toned clothing, took up a position on the opposite side of her.

"What separates us from Sith, from dark Jedi, is our ability to control ourselves, to restrain our own personal biases and greed. When we attack using our darker emotions to fuel our abilities, we _don't_ attack to cause harm or suffering. In the past eight months that the two of you have been here, you have improved much, and I am more than proud of what you have accomplished. But learning a lesson and applying it are two different things. Arkal, Neitha, up front."

The two oldest members of the Death Knights, a hulking Yuzzem Jedi and a Weequay, stepped forward.

"Maika, Toile, I apologize for what I will ask you to do, but you have seen some of the older ones do this particular practice," Waxarn said softly. "I know that you both are still hurting from the losses you have taken. Call upon those emotions now. Call upon them but show them that it is you in control, not them."

Small whirlwinds of Force energy began to spiral around both eleven year old Jedi as they swallowed, tears forming in their eyes. They both reached out a hand to each other and gripped them tightly, the whirlwind increasing.

"Now," Waxarn said softly. "Let those feeling subside. Let your brothers and sisters draw away your pain."

Both young Jedi did as they were told, exhaling shakily.

"Use your strongest offensive ability on Arkal and Neitha. They're both skilled enough so do not worry about causing too much harm."

"It's alright kids," the Weequay agreed. "Give us your best shots."

Toile's black eyes narrowed for a moment, before he held out his hand and released another stream of lightning. Jagged bolts of purple lanced out of his fingertips, crackling as it coursed through the air.

Neitha caught it, allowing the energy to pool in his hands. "Remember, Toile. You _don't_ want to use this ability to hurt, but to prevent pain. Lightning is naturally destructive, just like your anger. Harness it for _good_. Wishing pain will only bring more pain, while wishing to stop pain can create healing."

Toile kept up his attack, but gradually the purple tinge of his lightning became blue, his entire body relaxing.

"Good," Neitha smiled.

Maika, in the meantime, seemed to tremble as dark energies coalesced in her hands. "You said we could use any technique, right Master Kel?"

"Yes, even those you learned from the spirits of the Woolmander Palace," Waxarn said dryly.

Maika let out a hiss as the energy seemed to form into an almost visible spear. Despite the hatred and anger on her face, however, almost frightened brown eyes darted up towards the Yuzzem Jedi. "Sure you can take this, Arkal?"

"I eat nightmares for breakfast, sister."

"You asked for it." With a yell, Maika hurled the spear of negative energy at her opponent, who deftly shrouded his hands in the same dark miasma and snatched the weapon out of the air.

Arkal closed his eyes, and very gradually, the energy of the spear seemed to merge with that around his large hands. The other Death Knights helped to siphon off the sudden influx of emotions, and Arkal's eyes opened again. "Not bad, sister. Anytime you want to get a load off, feel free to hurl another one of those my way."

Maika smiled weakly, reaching out for Toile's hand and finding it available almost immediately. "Thanks."

Arkal just made a noise of amusement and bowed to Waxarn.

"Go and take the rest of the day off, you lot," Waxarn nodded at the others. "Maika, Toile, can you stay behind for a bit?"

The other bowed respectfully as well, and then walked over to both Maika and Toile to give them pats on the back or reassuring hugs, before going their own ways.

Waxarn waited until the three of them were alone. "After showing that you are stronger than even your most powerful emotions, I've decided that the both of you are ready to accompany me on a mission."

"[Really?]" Toile gaped.

"Wizard!" Maika said brightly, looking nothing like the gloom-and-doom Jedi of Death that she had been only moments earlier. As 'dark' as the two of them might seem, they were still only children after all.

"Yes," Waxarn said with a patient nod of his head. "An old friend of mine, Jedi Knight Si'ada, will be joining up with us. Now, the reason why I had the two of you do this test today was because of the type of mission we're going on."

"[Huh?]" Toile blinked.

"Recently, Yuuzhan Vong shapers trying to repair the planet of Ciutric have come under attack from a mysterious assailant. Four of their warrior bodyguards have already been murdered, and two shapers have been found dead as well."

"Wait, we're going to_ help_ Yuuzhan Vong?" Maika said in disbelief.

"Think of it this way, we're going to help the people of Ciutric," Waxarn corrected. "The Yuuzhan Vong shapers there are working to undo almost five years worth of planet-shaping, to make the place livable for those who once called the place a home. Stabilization of Ciutric will also go a long way to restoring stability to the region and helping to revive the Ciutric Hegemony's economic power. Regardless of what you think of the Yuuzhan Vong, they hold the keys to a stronger Ciutric sector. Most importantly, this restoration effort is being watched by many as a possible success-story and role model for others to follow. If it fails, hundreds of other planets ravaged by the Yuuzhan Vong will also lose funding, political support, and all manner of aid. I know you're strong enough to take this mission on, otherwise I wouldn't have asked you to join me. Can I count on your help in this Maika?"

Maika swallowed and nodded.

"Toile?"

"[I'm in, Master.]"

"Good," Waxarn said. "Go get your bags packed. We'll be leaving after today's evening meal."

Waxarn couldn't help but chuckle when the two replied with half bows, before hurriedly taking off for their living shelters to pack. Yup, the Death Knights had definitely changed.

**]-(IV)-[ ]-(IV)-[**

Their shuttle descended through the partially purified air of Ciutric IV right in front of the hazy, morning sun. The Ciutric Hegemony had been one of the many local powers that had been completely destroyed by the Yuuzhan Vong War. Being a heavily industrialized hegemony, its planets had fared worse than most under the occupation of the techno-phobe invaders. Ciutric IV, the hegemony's capital had fallen shortly after the outbreak of the war and had been undergoing Vongforming for much of the duration of the war. The shapers in charge of repairing the planet had had their work cut out for them, but had been making great headway; bolstering the confidence in similar projects across the galaxy.

Landing at a temporary 'safe-zone,' Waxarn and his two apprentices stepped out of their shuttle and nodded at their welcoming party.

"Master Kel," Si'ada beamed up at him, giving him an informal bow.

"Jedi Knight Si'ada," Waxarn returned with the same affection.

"Thank you for coming. Are these your students?"

"The next generation of Death Knights," Waxarn placed a hand on both Maika and Toile's shoulders. "This is Jedi Apprentice Toile and Jedi Apprentice Maika."

Si'ada inclined her head politely. Her eyes briefly flickered over to Waxarn, before focusing on the two young Jedi in front of him. She hadn't missed the small wells of anger and self-loathing still within them. "I worked with Master Kel during the Vong War. Good to meet the two of you."

"Likewise," Maika said shortly.

"[A pleasure]," Toile said, just as brief.

Si'ada looked back to her former master. "I was going to let you all hear several firsthand accounts, but the witnesses are really busy, so I'll just relay what they told me."

Waxarn heard the unspoken explanation in her voice. The witnesses were Yuuzhan Vong, and she had correctly deduced just where the anger and self-loathing of his apprentices were directed at. "That'd be helpful. I'm actually surprised that you've requested help on this matter."

"[Shouldn't a lone Jedi be able to find a simple murderer?]" Toile voiced. "[You were Waxarn's student too, so you should be strong enough.]"

Si'ada nodded. "I would be, normally. I've had to stop my share of fanatics from seeking revenge. Kind of counterintuitive of them too. I mean, these guys want revenge on the Vong for destroying Ciutric Four, so they attack the only ones capable of restoring their home planet back to what it was before? Odd, isn't it? Anyways, the suspect I'm looking for isn't just any run-of-the-mill murderer with a grudge. All the kills have been done by lightsabers."

"Saber_s_?" Maika picked up quickly.

"Yes," Si'ada replied. "More than one. From the residual energy left behind in the wounds, at least three."

"Three?" Waxarn's eyebrows shot up.

"The third was the most recent murder," Si'ada said grimly. "I'm guessing that the previous two managed to recruit a new friend. These guys are definitely Force sensitive, so it's making finding them that much harder. I have a pretty clear idea where they're based, though. That's why I called in the help."

"Si'ada, why didn't you tell me this over the comm?" Waxarn said with a frown. "I would have brought fully trained Knights if the situation was this serious."

"We can handle it," Maika said, looking up at Waxarn. "They may have lightsabers, but like you taught us, you don't need a lightsaber to be a Jedi, to be dangerous."

"[Yeah]," Toile said in support of his friend. "[I mean, it's not like I want to help out the scarheads, but I'm not going to run away if some idiot thinks killing the ones trying to fix this galaxy is a good thing.]"

"Si'ada, your call," Waxarn said, his face betraying no emotion. "You've investigated these cases, know the culprits the best."

"Only one of the three assailants has any formal training," Si'ada said slowly. "That much is clear. Some of the victims, before they were found, actually looked as if they had been used as training dummies."

"So a master and an apprentice."

"Or two," Si'ada gestured to her former leader. "Like you, Maika, and Toile."

"_Jeedai _Si'ada! _Jeedai _Si'ada!" A frantic voice interrupted any further musings. The group turned to see a Yuuzhan Vong shaper sprint across the grounds as if death itself was at his heels.

Both Maika and Toile became rigid, darker energies flaring up around them for fractions of a second. Waxarn, who still had a hand on their shoulders, gave them both a warning squeeze, and they were able to settle down after several ragged breaths. Once the anger dissipated, however, they both seemed to step even closer to Waxarn, as if silently signaling a desire for protection. He draped a fatherly arm around both, enveloping them in a soothing shell of his Force energy.

In the meantime, Si'ada nodded to the panicked shaper in confusion.

"Gaantak Hool," Si'ada frowned. "What's wrong?"

"_Jeedai_," Gaantak panted. "The assailants have struck again! This time they have slain the Master Shaper and our warrior protectors, and have taken the rest of the team hostage. I just barely managed to escape!"

"Hostage?"

"Yes," Gaantak nodded frantically. "They said that they were going to show the galaxy true justice! That they were going to publically execute the others by mid-day today!"

Si'ada swore and looked to Waxarn. "Master Kel. Like I said earlier, I have a pretty good idea where they're coming from. Can you and Toile and Maika back me up?"

"It's not like we have the time to wait for reinforcements," Waxarn said with a grim nod. "Maika, Toile, you are to do _exactly_ as I tell you, okay? Just because I told you that you can be a Jedi without a lightsaber doesn't mean those attackers are Jedi _with_ lightsabers. Expect the worse."

"[They'll be like us]," Toile said perceptively. "[Angry at the Vong.]"

"But they don't have you or the Death Knights to help them," Maika said, tearing her eyes away from Gaantak.

"Right, so they'll be even more dangerous," Waxarn nodded. "Jedi Knight Si'ada, lead the way."

**]-(V)-[ ]-(V)-[**

They took a single speeder across the vongformed landscape, able to see the various non-native plants and animals still roaming the forests and ruined cities of the planet. They occasionally passed a small collection of yorik-coral buildings, offices and housing for the shapers trying to restore the planet.

Maika could only tremble at the non-Force presence these lifeforms gave off. While Toile had become completely stoic, forcing his gaze ahead. They were sitting on either side of Waxarn in the back of their speeder, and Si'ada driving.

Waxarn, sensing the distress of his apprentices, rubbed their arms and gestured with his head. "Reach out with the Force, you two. Towards our destination. Can you sense what might lie in store for us?"

Maika just shook her head, shrinking against his side. "Master Kel, I don't like sensing the Vong. If I do, I'll get angry and do something that'll make you disappointed."

"You would never do that," Waxarn murmured to the eleven-year old girl. "You or Toile. In the months that I've known the both of you, disappointment is not something I've ever felt with you two. Pride, happiness, sadness, yes. Never disappointment."

"[I don't like sensing Vong either]," Toile said softly. "[It just feels wrong. They shouldn't be on this planet at all, they and all their freaky animals and plants.]"

"But they are," Waxarn said gently. "Remember, as Jedi we have to overcome prejudices, both others and our own. Think only about how you can make the current situation better for everyone, not about how it's currently making some suffer."

"We're going to stop the murderers," Maika supplied. "That'll make things better."

"Right," Waxarn said. "Toile, any ideas?"

"[If they're anyway like Maika and me, they'll be able to use their anger and hatred to help themselves]," Toile said thoughtfully. "[But if they try it with us, we can use that absorption technique you taught us. Like that story you told us. The Jedi Alema was able to counter a Sith by empathizing and drawing out his anger, by enduring his hate. We can do the same.]"

"For that to work, though, you must master your own fears," Waxarn coached sagely. "Before you can help another, you must first help yourselves. Can you truly help them get over their anger if you yourselves are too afraid to use the Force with Vong nearby?"

Both eleven year olds looked at each other from across the speeder and swallowed nervously. Maika nodded once. "We can try."

"Trying is good," Waxarn smiled encouragingly. "It's a start."

"[And if we fail?]" Toile said in a smaller voice.

"Then you'll fail," Waxarn shrugged. "It's not like you'll be going up against these killers by yourselves. It's what Si'ada and I are for, to back the two of you up. But I believe in the two of you, I know you'll both give it your best efforts."

The two fell silent, but Waxarn could feel them both tentatively reach out with their own senses.

"You've changed, Waxarn," Si'ada said from the driver's seat.

"You have too, Si'ada," Waxarn answered softly. "Have you been well?"

"As well as I can be," Si'ada shrugged. "It's weird working with the same race that destroyed my home planet, but at least I know I'm doing some good in this galaxy. I miss you and the others though. "

"Have you heard from any of them?"

"Only Nixa," Si'ada answered. "He's rejoined the Galactic Alliance fleet to hunt down pirates. You?"

"Maez. He's helping the Chiss map out the Unknown Regions," Waxarn shrugged. "He's doing fine as far as I can tell."

"That's good," Si'ada murmured.

"[Master Kel]," Toile said, opening his eyes.

"Yes?"

"They know we're coming," Maika answered, her face hard.

"Really?" Si'ada blinked. "I'm not sensing anything."

"Neither am I," Waxarn echoed. "Are the two of you certain?"

"[You can't feel it?]" Toile said in confusion. "[It's so dark, their eagerness.]"

"Maybe it's because they're using the dark side to shield themselves," Si'ada said. "Accomplished dark Jedi are able to hide their presence, even from fully trained masters."

"There could be another reason," Waxarn said almost reluctantly. "Because if that was the case, Toile and Maika shouldn't be able to sense anything at all."

"Oh!" Maika suddenly gasped. "I think they just realized that we could sense them."

"[They said 'hi']," Toile said in disbelief.

"Great, walking into a dark Jedi lair, with them fully aware that we're coming," Si'ada groaned.

"[A trap?]" Toile looked to his master.

"Probably," Waxarn again nodded, looking preoccupied as he did. "But if they know we're aware that _they_ know we're coming, maybe not."

"Waxarn, what's on your mind?" Si'ada said, hazarding a glance over her shoulder.

Waxarn shook his head. "I just hope I'm wrong."

"Master?" Maika lightly prodded him with the Force. "What is it?"

"There's another way someone can hide in the Force, yet be detected by others," Waxarn elaborated slowly. "And that's if you know the people who are looking for you. Know them well."

Si'ada nearly drove them into a tree as what Waxarn was saying sunk in. "No way! Not Jalinae! She wouldn't!"

"That's why I'm hoping I'm wrong," Waxarn answered with a sad tilt of his head. Jalinae had always been Si'ada's hero and role-model, an older sister whose shoulder she would use to cry on. He was more than hoping he was wrong, praying to the Force that he was just being paranoid.

"Well, we're going to be there in another ten minutes," Si'ada said, a note of anguish in her voice as she increased the speeder's speed past its safe limits. "Everything will be cleared up then."

**]-(VI)-[ ]-(VI)-[**

"They're nearby," Maika swung herself over the side of the speeder and pulled out her cortosis-lined vibroblade at the feelings she could sense. "And they're still waiting for us."

"Of course they are," Waxarn said, peering into the thick forest. Only a short distance away, what had once been a weather and fire-watch station loomed above the rows of trees. Now that they were closer, he could definitely sense some disturbance emanating from that building. And with it, his worst fears were confirmed. He could sense Jalinae's presence, but twisted almost beyond recognition.

_Oh, Jalinae._

_ Welcome Master Waxarn Kel._ Her thoughts were mocking, and he could tell she was watching them from the top of the building.

_The sins of the past, huh._ Waxarn thought wryly.

_Indeed. Come, my lovely apprentices and I have prepared a nice reception for you._

"[Are _you_ okay, Master?]" Toile asked, his own cortosis-lined vibroblade at his side.

Waxarn forced himself to smile. "Don't have a choice. I will be though."

Si'ada, likewise sensing her former Death Knight sister, just looked up at the distant saucer atop the tower pleadingly. As if her wishes and thoughts would make everything go away.

"Come on," Waxarn said, barely able to keep his voice even. "Let's go."

The forest was deathly quiet as the four of them took the well-marked trail to the outpost. Every step had Si'ada and Waxarn ever more on edge.

"[At least the Vong are still alive]," Toile muttered. "[Force, I can't believe I said that.]"

"Blame it on the aura those dark Jedi are giving off," Maika said in a whisper. "It's enough to drive anyone insane."

Sooner than they would have liked, they reached the weather station; an old building left over from the Clone Wars era that still had its uses. The four piled in to the still-functioning turbolift at the base of the tower and waited several agonizing seconds as they ascended above the treetops.

They reached the top, and the transparent doors slid apart to grant them entry to the main chamber.

The disc-shaped room was devoid of any furniture save for a large table. The walls were smeared with blood and bile at various locations, and the three-hundred and sixty degree bank of windows had all been blown out—jagged glass shards framing the external walkway. Wind whistled through the gaps, washing over all of the occupants in an icy cold breeze.

Awaiting the four Jedi was a sight that they had dreaded.

Standing behind a line of kneeling Yuuzhan Vong shapers were three lightsaber-wielding individuals. It took a moment, but with a startled jolt, the Jedi realized that the shapers weren't kneeling, but had had their legs cut off _at_ the knees.

"Jalinae," Si'ada said sadly, staring at the woman who had once been a sister to her.

The grief-stricken woman's own physical appearance was about as unrecognizable as her Force presence. Jalinae had shorn off all of her hair, dark-side corrupted veins visible on deathly pale skin. She was skeletal in appearance, with one bony hand holding a lightsaber, and the other grasping some type of trigger device with multiple buttons.

The two with her were just teenagers, but the ravages of the dark side had already begun to damage their complexions.

"Jalinae," Waxarn said, sorrow in every syllable. "Stop this, please. The war is over."

"Over?" Jalinae scoffed in disbelief. "The war will never be over! Not as long as one of these scarheads live."

She flicked a switch on the trigger device and one of the shaper's heads exploded in a mist of black blood.

"Jalinae! It doesn't have to be like this!" Si'ada said with a desperate yell. "You're a sister to me, my hero. When I first came to the Death Knights, you took me in and made everything better! Just give me the remote and lightsaber and surrender. Please!"

"Hero?" If anything Jalinae's voice seemed to become filled with even more scorn. "Where was the hero when they were gutting my husband in front of me! When they were cracking my parents' heads over sharp rocks! Grow up, Si'ada! In real life, there _are_ no heroes! There are only scum like these scarheads and people brave enough to do any and everything to stop them! _I'm_ doing this galaxy a favor! You're just holding onto the same pathetic beliefs that got the rest of the Death Knights killed!"

"This isn't right," Maika spoke up, her voice a growl. "I may not know much, but even I know that this is wrong."

"Right?" Jalinae paused in her rant to focus on the eleven year old. "What would you know about what's right, little girl?"

"It's Maika," Maika hissed, trembling and stepping forwards. "And I know more than my share of what's right! My parents were killed in the war because when I was younger, I couldn't stop from crying in fear! The Vong found our hiding place and cut off my mom and dad's heads as I clung to their bodies! I want to kill Vong as much as the next person, but this…you're no better than they are!"

"Semantics," Jalinae dismissed, pressing another button. "Invent whatever excuses you want, but the fact remains. Every time I kill a Vong, that's one less scarhead in the galaxy to deal with. One less traitorous, murdering, dirt crawler dirtying our galaxy! Dead is dead, it doesn't matter how they get that way."

Unexpectedly, Toile held out a hand, and the remote flew from Jalinae's grip and into his. "[It matters to me.]"

"Boy," Jalinae hissed, her lightsaber activating. A beam of pure red flared to life and lit up the room. The sabers of her two followers likewise ignited, the red glow washing out the pale complexions of the Jedi before them. "If you know what's good for you, you'll give that back."

A flash of anger rippled through the Rodian Apprentice, and in a searing crackle, a ball of Force Lightning appeared in his hand and tore apart the remote. Meeting Jalinae's crazed gaze with his own rage-filled gaze, he smirked. "[Ooops.]"

"You definitely know how to train them, Waxarn," Si'ada muttered in exasperation.

"I'm not successful all the time," Waxarn said, keeping his gaze on the dark side trio. "Last chance, Jalinae. Surrender to answer for your crimes or we will…"

"Be forced to apprehend you," Si'ada said, cutting off what Waxarn was on the verge of saying. "Waxarn saved you once, let him save you again."

"If you won't help me kill the Vong, you'll join them!" Jalinae spat. She gestured to her two young followers. "Kill the scarheads and finish off these scarhead lovers!"

Waxarn and Si'ada held out their hands simultaneously and a burst of Force energy swept both dark side initiates away from the remaining shapers and into a nearby wall.

Jalinae let out a feral sound and leaped towards both Toile and Maika. Waxarn sped between them and intercepted her blade with his own.

"Maika, Toile, stay back!" He yelled over the hum of the saber.

The two saber-wielding dark side initiates sprang back into action, as did Si'ada, who flipped through the air to block the both of them.

It was a deadlock, with Waxarn desperately batting aside the frenzied attacks of Jalinae, and Si'ada barely holding her own against Jalinae's untrained but equally powerful apprentices.

"Get the Vong out of here!" Si'ada yelled at the pair of eleven year-olds, spinning around to keep one of her opponents from slipping by to finish the executions.

Both Maika and Toile froze, staring at the remaining five shapers with apprehension.

"Don't listen to the Jedi!" Jalinae cackled. "Finish the Vong off! You want them dead right? They killed your families! Made you orphans! I can sense the anger in you, the hatred, use it! Why does it matter how the Vong die, kill them! Kill the Vong!"

Maika and Toile still stay immobilized as they battled their personal feelings.

"Maika, Toile, remember what I taught you," Waxarn said, straining against a particularly vicious strike. "You're Jedi first and foremost. You can't change the past, but you can make better the future. I trust the both of you enough to support any decision you'll make."

A vicious lightsaber sweep cut away a segment of ceiling. Glowing lines streaked across the rocky walls of the central pillar and into the wooden countertops that lined them.

"You want to be strong, right? To stop from ever being afraid? To stop anyone else from hurting? Well I can give you that!" Jalinae hollered over the sounds of battle. "I can give you strength! Power! I can make it so that you'll never be afraid again!"

The eleven year olds turned to each other and then back out at the old Force sensitives tearing apart the room with Force and lightsaber techniques.

"Can you give us a family?" Maika asked, her soft voice somehow heard over the combat. "Friends? A home?"

"When you're powerful enough, you can have everything you want!"

Toile and Maika gripped each other's hands and nodded as one.

"[I guess]," Toile said. "[That we're powerful enough then.]"

"What?" Jalinae's eyes bulged and she barely avoided Waxarn's counter-attack.

"We have friends, we have family, we have a home," Maika said, looking Jalinae in the eyes.

Both eleven year olds walked through the debris-strewn room to the helpless Yuuzhan Vong shapers and undid the bindings that held their hands.

"How are we to escape?" One of the shapers asked hoarsely.

Toile made a gesture, and the large table in the room floated over.

Both Si'ada and Waxarn continued to bar the dark siders from interfering.

"[Get on]," Toile said tonelessly, still unable to look the Yuuzhan Vong in the face.

The shapers hastily complied, the table just big enough to fit all of them on top. One, however, paused and reached out to the young Rodian and human girl.

They both flinched.

"For what it's worth," the shaper whispered softly, halting his actions. "I apologize for how my people have hurt you. Thank you for saving us."

"We're not doing this because we forgive you," Maika said darkly. "We're doing this because we're Jedi."

With a combined motion, the two eleven year olds floated the table out of the broken bay window.

"No!" Shrieked Jalinae. She unleashed a blast of Sith Lightning at a startled Waxarn, and the Jedi Master was knocked to the ground. The dark sider raced through the saucer-like room, her red eyes wild and manic.

"Maika, Toile!" Waxarn managed to yell in warning.

"[You've got this?]" Toile asked Maika, the levitating table still too high up to be released.

"Yeah," Maika worried her lower lip as sweat formed on her forehead. "Go keep the both of us from getting killed why don't you."

Toile whirled around, however, just as a blast of Sith Lightning leaped out of Jalinae's fingertips. The impact and strength of it surprised the Rodian child and he was blown out the same window the table had been levitated through. At the last second, he managed to snag the exterior walkway's railing. Dangling, he noticed the shaper-laden table top hovering just above the treeline. "Never mind, Maika! I've got the table!"

"Figures," Maika grumbled. She spun back around and unleashed a blast of lightning of her own at the wholly surprised Jalinae.

The blue energy crackled around the dark-sider, but appeared to do little. "Is that the best you can do?"

Maika raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. "Unlike you, Sith. I have others I can rely on."

Jalinae raised her lightsaber to strike down the eleven year old, only to jerk as another blade shot out of her chest.

"Waxarn?" Jalinae managed to gasp in both disbelief and despair.

"Forgive me, Jalinae," Waxarn whispered in anguish, appearing behind her with a grave expression.

"There couldn't have been another way," she said with a choked laugh. "We both know that this was the only way to stop me."

Waxarn looked away in silent agreement, deactivating his saber and catching Jalinae before she hit the ground.

"Look after my two fools," Jalinae wheezed, gesturing to her two stunned apprentices. "You're obviously the better teacher. You'll do what has to be done for them."

"I will," Waxarn closed his eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you."

"Some broken things aren't ever meant to be fixed," Jalinae said, the strength leaving her voice. "I guess I was just one of them. Do you think…do you think I'll be able to see my family? You know, when I rejoin the Force?"

"Positive," Waxarn managed, his throat tight.

"Oh, good," Jalinae exhaled

"Jalinae," Si'ada knelt opposite of Waxarn.

"Little Ada," Jalinae used the last of her strength to reach up with one hand and cup the Jedi Knight's face. "Sorry."

"I forgive you," Si'ada sobbed.

Jalinae winked one last time, before her eyes fluttered close and her body stilled.

**]-(VII)-[ ]-(VII)-[**

When the group exited the weather station, the mood was decidedly different than before. Both of Jalinae's apprentices had surrendered and appeared to still be in shock at the death of their teacher. Both Maika and Toile also appeared to be stunned at what they had just experienced. But anger appeared to be the mood of the moment for Si'ada, who promptly gripped Waxarn's collar the moment they stepped out of the building.

"You didn't have to kill her, Waxarn!"

Waxarn just bowed his head and didn't answer.

"What happened to 'no one is beyond saving'?" Si'ada yelled, furious tears streaking down her cheek as she pounded his chest with a fist. "To 'you'll do everything in your power to save us'? There's already been too much death! Now there's only Nixa and Maez left. Why didn't you just disarm her, stun her? I know you're strong enough to do that!"

Again Waxarn stayed silent, looking away from the distraught expression on Si'ada's face. The younger Jedi released her grip on him and let out a sob. "You didn't have to kill her, Waxarn. You didn't."

"[There was no other way]," Toile spoke up, coming to his master's defense. "[She was too broken. Even she knew it.]"

"I think the reason she didn't kill the Vong right away was because she wanted him to stop her," Maika added softly. "She knew she was too far gone and wanted to be stopped. She was hurting inside so bad. So, so bad."

Si'ada hissed. "There's always another option besides killing. Don't let him tell you otherwise."

The two young apprentices looked to Waxarn, as if expecting him to defend himself, but he was silent once more.

Si'ada shook her head angrily, wiping away her tears. "You take her two back to Yavin with you, Master Kel. I'll handle the wounded Vong and political fall-out."

Waxarn nodded silently and Si'ada levitated the table top, which Toile had set down at the base of the tower, back to the speeder. Seconds later, she had taken off, her anger and hurt ringing clearly in the Force.

"[Master]," Toile said. "[Why didn't you say anything?]"

Waxarn managed a tired smile as he patted Toile on the head. "Better she be angry at me, hate me, than at the person Jalinae had become. At least this way she can still imagine Jalinae as the hero and big sister she'd always been in her mind. Can dream that Jalinae _wasn't_ beyond saving."

"She was, wasn't she?" Maika asked. "She was all twisted and dark."

"If a wound is not cared for properly, that's what happens," Waxarn's smile faded and his face took on a haunted expression. "I failed the first generation of Death Knights in more ways than one. But I was young then too. Just twenty years old at the start of the war, hurting and lost, and in charge of people drowning in their own sorrows, in their own anger. I could have done so many things differently then, I _should_ have done things differently." He released a breath a draped an arm around both Maika and Toile. "But I can't change the past. Jalinae was trapped in it, living in it every day. I'm only fortunate that the Force has given me a second chance with the two of you and the other knights."

"What's going to happen to us?" One of Jalinae's students asked, looking fearful.

"Do you both want to continue to learn the ways of the Force?" Waxarn asked idly, remotely summoning their shuttle.

The two dark-siders nodded.

"What if you had to swear off your revenge on the Yuuzhan Vong to do so?"

They quickly scowled and shook their heads.

"Well, that settles things then."

The two slumped in disappointment.

"I guess I'll have no choice but to train the two of you too. Meet your new brother and sister, Toile Senn and Maika."

Jalinae's former students brightened. "You mean…?"

"Yup. From this moment forward, I'll be your master. Welcome to the Death Knights, a place where we'll all get a second chance at life."

**]-(End)-[**

A\N: So begins the interlude between aDA and aFU. Each story will be one-shots only (and maybe an occasional two-chapter story since I'm not all that great at keeping stories compact) =). Once monthly updates for at least five more stories. Next up, we introduce a new character who'll play a minor major role in aFU. See you all January 30th.

If you still need more, both SiouxFan and DarkSabre have created one-shot spin-offs that exist within the aDA universe, so you can go on over to their profiles and give them a look-through (and review).


	2. Chapter 2

Striding Towards Fate

_I fought to maintain order. I thought…I hoped things would change. They did, but not for the better. There came a point when the truth couldn't be denied, so I'm here._

- Soontir Fel

**[-(I)-][-(I)-]**

When you hear the name Turi Altamik, what's the first thing that pops into your head? Probably, 'who in Emperor's Blackbones is she'?

I'll give you a hint, I'm a Jedi Knight of the New Jedi Order.

Still nothing? Well don't worry; I wasn't expecting you to jump at the name like everyone does for the Solos, Skywalkers, and Horns of this galaxy. That's not to say I don't have the deepest of respect for them, but they ended up setting the bar ridiculously high for us 'regular' Jedi. Waving lightsabers around while knee-deep in a swarm of bad guys is good for holovids, and for them, but I've always preferred a good, un-Jedi-like blaster in my hand in a straight-up firefight. And I've lost count of the number of times when I've had to say: 'no, I can't stop a giant iceberg from crushing the city with just my mind,' 'if a meteor was speeding toward the planet, I'd be running right alongside you,' and my personal favorite 'no I can't give you immediate access to the High Council, I have to go through official channels for that.' Every time I have to say one of those things, you would think I'd just said that I enjoy beating up Ewoks and butchering tauntauns.

I guess I should start at the beginning.

I'm the product of a moment of indiscretion between the governor of Foerost and the senator of the Bormea sector. Which more or less makes my blood as Imperial as can possibly be. And it shows in my high cheek bones, slate-green eyes and blond hair, and that upper-crust accent that tends to garner a modicum of respect even if the others don't like me. I never did figure out which side of my family my Force sensitivity came from, but I was never curious enough to care.

I wasn't too close to my parents as a child, and for good reason.

My parents shipped me off to Skywalker's academy when I was just four. Four! That more or less tells you what I was to them when I was a kid, an inconvenience. For the longest time, Master Solusars were my surrogate parents, teaching me all the things an actual parent should be teaching kids. Whenever the academy was on holiday, I'd spend it bouncing around between biological parents, being dragged along to one political event or another. It was dull, and drab, and being Force sensitive meant that I could tell just how insincere and false everything around me was. I hated it, but as a child, it wasn't like I had a choice at that age.

Not that growing older helped any. On my fourteenth birthday, the Yuuzhan Vong War broke out. Being the product of two Core-ward politicians, meant that they were using my birthday for their political games; trying to set me up with the son of some governor of a place I haven't even heard of. In a way, though, that birthday party and the events that followed were blessings in disguise. I wasn't with the others when Yavin Four was finally hit, and my parents believed they could protect me better than the Jedi and kept me apart from the others. For the most part, even if I'm the type of girl who prefers a firefight over hiding out on backwater planets, I ran. A lot. There's something about an extra-galactic alien race wanting to skin you alive that serves as a good motivator for the frightened teenage girl that I was.

I ran a lot, but I also learned a lot at the same time.

It may seem strange, but during the war, I discovered that, for all their animosity, my parents really did care about each other, care about me. Odd time to have that epiphany, I know. When the Peace Brigade movement started hunting Jedi, both my mother and father burned through their many bank accounts trying to keep me safe. I spent most of the war hiding out in remote mountain-side villas, in agrarian hamlets on backwater planets, and wherever else my parents' money could buy me safe passage.

My mother was on Coruscant when it was hit, and I'm ashamed to say that she was one of the many senators who re-appropriated planetary defenses to ensure the safe evacuation of her shuttle. Ashamed not for what she did, but that I was glad she was alive at the expense of countless other refugees and military assets. I had only just discovered that she loved me and I was grateful for the time she managed to buy us. She made it through the war and continues to be the Bormea sector senator to this day.

But I guess the Force also has a way of balancing things out. My father, closet-supporter of the Palpatine-era that he was, had been on Bastion when the Yuuzhan Vong hit it with their virus. I was told he died quickly.

Moving on, fast forward to where we are today, two years after the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War.

I am Jedi Knight Turi Altamik, the Jedi Ambassador to the Imperial Remnant. A position I blame wholly on my parents.

I've always been skilled at manipulating emotional states, reading minds, and pretty much every single trick a diplomatic negotiator would kill for. My time in those boring political meetings as a child allowed me learn just what it took to win allies and get things done. So my upbringing, coupled with my very obvious, human, Imperial genes made me the obvious choice for the job.

By now you're probably wondering what the point of my life's story was for, or why I'm even important enough to rate a holocron of my own. I'm actually recording this so my eventual successor can get an idea of what it's like being a Jedi in the post-war Remnant. That, and Tionne threatened to make those positively lethal, sad faces at me if I didn't make some historical documentation as the first Jedi Ambassador to the Imperial Remnant. And since she's probably the second most important woman in my life, right after my mother, here it is; my perspective on the Remnant as it attempts to recover from the war.

**[-(II)-][-(II)-]**

The Jedi Ambassadorial office is located in the heart of the Imperial garrison planet of Taspir III. An oh so hospitable planet with seasonal bouts of acid rains, a permanent brownish-yellow haze in the air, and lovely bright red pools of lava. The ground is pockmarked with all sorts of factories, fortresses, and more factories. If one didn't know any better, they would have thought that the Yuuzhan Vong had ravaged this planet, and not Bastion. And the scarheads would be well within their right too. Nothing about the planet is natural, and it is a miserable place to be if one is a Jedi.

Unfortunately, Taspir III was chosen as the temporary capital of the Empire shortly after the end of the war. Bastion was definitely out for the foreseeable future; the virus that had been unleashed on it was still as potent as ever. Yaga Minor, the Empire's primary shipyards, was still being terraformed to repair the damage done by an orbital bombardment. And Grand Admiral Pellaeon and Moff Sarreti didn't trust the newly elected Moffs of the other sectors. The fact that the Dynali sector, the sector Taspir III is located in, had yet to choose their replacement Grand Moff, might have also played a role in the moving of the capital.

But elections are scheduled for next month, and everything is riding on which candidate would be chosen. The frontrunners are Moff Voster Quille and Moff Drikl Lecersen. Both couldn't be more different in their policies if they tried.

Moff Quille, governor of the Taspir system, is strictly pro-human, xenophobic, anti-Pellaeon, and pretty much your standard Imperial fanatic. My father would have loved him.

Moff Drikl, of the Ord Thoden system, is the more moderate of the duo, and a staunch supporter of Pellaeon's way of doing things. He is rather cunning for a Moff, preferring to keep his hands clean, but at the same time uses perfectly legal political maneuvers to annoy those rather loud anti-Pellaeon Moffs.

Now, if I could vote, I'd definitely vote for Drikl. But as the Jedi Ambassador to the Empire, my mandate specifically orders me _not_ to intervene in any way, shape or form. My duties are solely to observe the events occurring within the Empire, and do what I can to help the displaced refugees and ease the suffering of the war-survivors. If the Imperial government calls on me, I'm allowed to accompany them to diplomatic negotiations and speak on their behalf. But other than that, the Jedi Order has adopted a strict non-interference policy. I'm a diplomat and aid worker, an impartial observer, nothing more.

Why the Jedi even need to have ambassadors spread out throughout the galaxy when we're supposed to be politically neutral is a question beyond my pay grade, not that I'm paid anyways. I just do what I am told, bringing that bright spark of Jedi compassion to this fairly cold and logical world of the Empire.

So here I am, observing a political rally for Moff Quille, wholly disturbed as I watch the Moff gesticulate and address a rowdy crowd of several thousands upon thousands of _human_ supporters. The seats are packed, and there isn't even any place left to stand. Giant screens and speakers throughout the hall relay the Moff's images and words for the benefit of the people further in the back.

"True citizens of the Empire!" His voice rings with that same dark charisma all psychopaths seem to have. "It is high time that the Empire is restored to its former glory. Where our mere presence demanded instant respect and recognition. When our fleets brought order, discipline, and the highest levels of civilization throughout every corner of this galaxy. We should not be here, living in squalor and relying on the good will of outsiders. We should not let an alien race force us even further into a corner, make us ashamed of who we are. The current leaders of this Empire have grown impotent, weak, a disgrace to the very name! Look where Pellaeon and Sarreti have taken us! We were brought to death's door by an alien fleet many times smaller than our own! Moff Drikl is a well-known supporter of Pellaeon and Sarreti's policies and he will only continue our decline. I can guarantee you all that if he becomes the Grand Moff instead of I, we will lose more territories faster than a Jawa can burn to death. I promise you, however, should you elect me as the Empire's Grand Moff and overseer of the Dynali Sector, I shall bring back the pride that they have lost. I shall make being a son and daughter of the Empire something for all of us to hold our heads up high!"

There is a loud cheer from the crowd as they punch fists into the air and applaud in support.

The middle-aged Moff smiles, and patiently waits for the applause to die down.

"Yes, for too long have the likes of Pellaeon and Sarreti bowed down before alien interest. For too long have we been weakened by their impurities. Twi'lek, Gotal, Duros, and more, these _aliens_, they stain the very fabric of which this Empire was built from. These aliens are the reason why we have grown so weak and content with this tiny part of the galaxy that has been _allotted_ to us. And look where that got us? Drikl's ways are to_work_ with the rest of the galaxy, to seek their aid to restore the 'Imperial Remnant.' But mine, my agenda is to make this Remnant whole once more! To drag us out of the ashes for an Empire reborn. And we'll start by pruning everything that has made the _Imperial Remnant_, as weak as it is now. I'll triple the taxes on non-humans, bar them from office and reinstitute many of the policies that had been in place when being part of the Empire actually meant something. We should not be made to bow down to or beg anyone, rather it should be us in control of our own fates. Now, are you with me!?"

The cheer is many times louder than before, the crowd whipping themselves up into a fervor pitch as Quille accents his every point by jabbing a finger into the air.

_"Quille! Quille! Quille!"_The chants begin. Above it all, the rousing tones of the Imperial March fill the room, and stormtroopers in black armor march onto the stage in perfect formation to flank the Moff.

Great, the man has his own personal stormtroopers.

As I grimace, I'm half glad I'm wearing my all purpose, impossible to see me in, standard Jedi cloak and hood. The feelings in the Force are positively primal, with murderous rage and blind fanaticism combining to create spine-tingling darkness.

It's time for me to go. I can't do anything after all. I already know what the masters on the High Council will say. 'It's purely an internal matter.' 'As long as they aren't disturbing the galactic peace, the Jedi Order has no grounds to intervene in a democratic election.' And so I leave, ducking out of a side door and into the night.

**[-(III)-][-(III)-]**

_**A Week Later**_

_"We'd appreciate it if you accompany us to the negotiations,"_ Moff Sarreti tells me over the HoloNet. The staunchest Imperial supporter of the Galactic Alliance looks tired, beaten even.

The loss of Bastion weighs heavily on him still, I can feel it; over five billion people had died on the capital planet. Five billion lives that had trusted him and their sector fleet to protect them. As hard as Moff Sarreti is trying to help his people back onto his feet, his heart isn't in it. Without Bastion, the only thing he controls are a few sparsely inhabited systems, a few balls of space rock, and a space station. It is only Grand Admiral Pellaeon's constant support and command of the Imperial Navy that keeps Sarreti in power.

"Where to, Moff Sarreti?"

"_We're trying to persuade the people of the D'Astan sector to part with some of their food supplies,"_ Moff Sarreti answers wryly. _"With the Empire's infrastructure barely functioning as it is, there are over twelve billion people at risk of starvation, including the majority of the population on Taspir Three. We're counting on the sector's old loyalties to the Empire to garner some sympathy for our position."_

"D'Astan sector?" I quickly check through my records. Their main export was food-stocks and luxury goods. For the longest time it had been controlled by the D'Asta family. But then the Yuuzhan Vong War happened. "The sector is on the verge of anarchy itself. The death of the last member of the D'Asta family during the war has left a large power vacuum."

"_I know,"_ Moff Sarreti nods wearily. _"I'm hoping that they'll be more inclined to rejoining the Empire. Stability in return for the food-stores they have. At the moment, the Nez Peron system is the strongest of the bunch, led by a husband-wife team and their son."_

"It looks like you might have to rename the sector then," I remark glibly. "Will you be joining the negotiations?"

"_No, Moffs, Rosset, Tanal, and Drikl have the lead this time around."_

"You are aware that the Jedi Order can't be seen taking sides in the election, right?"

"_Don't worry, Rosset's neutral, Tanal's a newer Moff supporting Quille's bid for the position, and Drikl, well, you know where he stands. This is more important than politics at the moment. The food supplies from the D'Astan sector will go a long way to stabilizing the Empire and feeding billions of hungry people in the process."_

"I'll do what I can."

"_Much appreciated. They'll be waiting for you at the planet."_

I grimace. If the Moff delegation was already there, then that meant that they had fouled up the negotiations and needed an 'impartial' third party to set things on track again. Me being a Jedi meant that I was of course that impartial third party they were looking for.

Rather than say what I was thinking, however, I just nod. "I'll leave now, Jedi Knight Altamik, out."

Used to the spur-of-the-moment calls, I gather up my travel bag, already stocked with clothing, toiletries, and everything else a diplomat on the go might need. I nod at my Imperial attaché—see very obvious spy—sitting at the reception office out front, and take the stairs down to the speeder bay. One of the good things about being assigned to the Empire was that they gave me a speeder of my own.

A very nice one. Gleaming gold trim and an ebony-black finish, it's sleek, handles well, and definitely feels as if I could do twice the speed-limit the vehicle is capable of. The best part of it is that it is enclosed, a blessing when you consider the pollution of the planet I'm on.

I make my way through the Taspir Three traffic, avoiding the automated convoys and private shuttles that clog the sky-lanes. In no time at all, I'm at the spaceport. I mentioned earlier that my father was the governor of Foerost. For my fourteenth birthday he gave me a ship straight out of the shipyards. It was the ship I used to run all over the galaxy to the different safehouses my parents had set up for me, and it's the ship I'm still using today. My ship, the _Altamik Flier,_ is a lovely black-painted _Delta_-class JV-7 escort shuttle, with a few modifications to enable me to pilot it all by my lonesome. Heavily armed and armored, and also out of date, the ship embodied the Imperial spirit of diplomacy though efficient deadliness. I've picked up my father's knack for ships, so the shuttle also bears its own set of quirks which I've added on to over the years.

I plug my destination into the navi-computer and let the ship's droid intelligence, an AI I've nicknamed 'Father,' plot a course for me.

My destination, Nez Peron, is a quaint little farming planet that strives to be more important than it actually is. It was once a very loyal part of the Empire, its local rulers enjoying the luxury acquired through the many trading vessels that passed through the sector. Then the Empire fell and the local leaders decided that they enjoyed independence a bit more than being subjects to a failed government. A bit of political magic later, and it's part of the Empire again. And then independent again. The entire sector has a complicated history, but the Imperial identity is engraved in their policies and customs whether they're a part of the Empire or not. It is hard to imagine what the Moffs sent there could have said to completely muck up the negotiations.

The hyperspace journey is quick, the D'Astan sector just a short hop away from the Empire. As I enter the atmosphere of the planet, vast tracks of farm land whoosh by below. Shades of green, brown, and yellow are interspersed by the occasional irrigation channels or naturally occurring rivers. I grimace. I had had enough of farmland when I had been on the run; forced to hide out on an unsophisticated dust-ball of a planet for three months. The planet certainly isn't bringing back any good memories, and I hadn't even landed yet.

"This is Jedi Ambassador to the Empire, Jedi Knight Turi Altamik to Nez Peron Control, requesting landing coordinates and a berth."

"_Jedi Knight Altamik, your presence has been expected, head to the following coordinates and land in the field behind the house."_

"Behind the 'house,' Control?"

"_Affirmative, Governor Sinn-Kanos wishes to meet with you at her estate. The rest of the Imperial delegation is likewise present."_

"Understood. I've received the coordinates and am en route now."

The estate I am directed to is actually fairly modest in size—at least for Imperial standards. It's a nice, five story, red brick building, a columned porch out front and a garden in the back, with a white picket-fence surrounding it. Breaking the rustic setting is the duracrete and steel landing pad just beyond the rear fencing. It's a bit of an eyesore, and no doubt added recently.

A small delegation of people are awaiting me as I land my ship, and step out. I immediately recognize the three Moffs, and they're the first ones to greet me.

"Jedi Knight Altamik, thank you for coming," Moff Drikl says politely.

"The Jedi Order is always happy to serve, Moff Drikl," I reply with one of my many canned lines. And then, because one always has to be overly polite in diplomatic journeys, I tilt my head to the other Moffs. "Moff Rosset, Moff Tanal, doing well I hope?"

"As well as could be in these times," Moff Evelyn Tanal remarks dryly. Newly elected at the end of the previous year, she is now the youngest of the Moffs on the Council of Moffs, at a nice thirty-seven years young. She has an acidic wit about her, and is one of the many Moff's onboard Moff Quille's pro-human, rah rah Empire, bandwagon. She would have been a nice person to meet if she wasn't such a total xenophobic bigot.

"Let's just get this over with," Moff Deran Rosset scoffs impatiently. "These local officials are being absolutely infuriating. See if you can't talk some sense into them, Jedi Altamik."

Well, there's where the negotiations went awry. When treating locals like ill-educated imbeciles, it's highly doubtful they'll be open to helping you out. Of course, instead of pointing this out to the Moffs, I simply smile. "I'll do my best, Moff Rosset. As a member of the Jedi Order, I have even less of a desire to see the billions in the Empire starve to death than you do."

I walk pass the Moffs before Rosset can figure out that I've just insulted him. So much for being overly polite. But hey, if you had to deal with the likes of him for the past two years, you'd understand.

I stop in front of the second row of three individuals and bow low.

"I am Jedi Knight Turi Altamik, Jedi Ambassador to the Empire."

"Our condolences," a stony-faced woman said deadpan. Her long red hair, streaked with white, was tied back up in a bun. Her serious demeanor, when coupled with her Imperial-influenced dress choice, made it pretty clear that she was the bigwig I should be deferring to.

"Thank you, governor," I mutter just out of earshot of the Moffs behind me. "I do my best,"

I know I've picked up a few good-will points when the woman cracks a small smile; before her face becomes stony once more. "I'm Governor Mirith Sinn-Kanos. With me is my Chief of Security and husband, Kir, and our son and Minister of Agriculture, Sadeet."

"Minister, Chief," I acknowledge with smaller bows. The Minister of Agriculture looks to be even younger than me, while the Chief of Security appears to be far older than he appeared. Scars mar his face, and his eyes just have that old 'war-veteran' glaze to them. "Governor Sinn-Kanos, I assume you know why I'm here?"

"Yes," Mirith nods. "If you would like to continue the negotiations inside?"

The Moffs and I follow the Sinn-Kanos family into the estate and to a side office. A simple dining table is set up in the middle, with several mismatched chairs arranged along either side.

"You'll excuse the informalities," Mirith gestures apologetically. "We're not too big on political maneuvering and one-upmanship out here."

"Not a problem." I say, though the Moffs appear to be all holding their tongues. I do have to admit that despite her Imperial-influenced dress, I'm surprised that the governor isn't a stickler for the rules like most former Imperial regional leaders are.

"Now, first I'd like to ask what your understanding of the negotiations are, and then I'll relay to you what your fellow colleagues from the Empire offered."

"Of course, governor. From what Moff Sarreti has told me, the Empire would like to once again extend its hand in friendship to the entirety of the D'Astan sector. In exchange for taking care of the piracy and crime that has run rampant since the fall of the D'Asta family, this system will contribute a portion of its crops and supplies to the Empire in a form of reciprocity. Those in the D'Astan sector, the Nez Peron system included, would once more be citizens of the Empire, and will benefit from the security and protection all citizens of the Empire enjoy. "

"And were you given any specific numbers as to how much of our yield we'd have to contribute?" Sadeet Kir-Kanos asked, his voice mild.

"From the information Moff Sarreti sent to me, about twenty-eight percent per harvest. The number will fluctuate depending on the successfulness of harvest and mitigating factors that might not be foreseen."

"Therein lies the problem, Jedi Altamik," Mirith says, her hands resting neutrally on the table. "At most we can afford to part with eight percent, maybe ten percent if we stretch it, of our harvest. Nez Peron and Ord Cestus are already supplying the food to five different restoration projects being funded by the Galactic Alliance, and serve an additional five point three billion refugees who still have nowhere to go. On top of that, we're struggling to feed the people of the D'Astan sector as well. Doli, Rivvidu, Pedd, Serenno, when the Yuuzhan Vong came through here, those systems were completely ravaged. They have no means to produce food outside what we send them. Systems like Amorris, Flyntaria, and Isen, have completely descended into anarchy. As it is, our convoys come under constant attack by the Cavrilhu Pirates, who have reformed and are taking advantage of the lack of security in the region. In fact, the pirates are the second largest, organized power outside of Nez Peron and our own security forces in this region. Sad, isn't it?"

"I was telling the governor," Moff Tanal says with thinly veiled impatience. "That eight to ten percent would barely make a dent in our food needs. If they want the Empire to solve their pirate problem, we cannot settle for anything less than twenty percent."

I resist the urge to rub my forehead and decide to use the Force to ward off an incoming headache. "How about a compromise?"

"We're listening," Moff Rosset says.

"You allow the D'Astan sector to join the Empire and you patrol their space in exchange for their eight to ten percent, or whatever yield they can afford to spare. For now, some food aid is better than none after all. No doubt their yield will eventually increase once the Empire brings under control the pirate group that have been harassing their shipments. More security means more productivity. It will also give the men and women in our Imperial Navy something else to do besides put down riots and control crowds. The D'Astan sector joins the Empire, with the eventual goal of bringing their contribution to the Empire up to twenty percent of their yield."

"With only a partial fulfillment of our quota, who will decide which Imperial system gets the supplies and which ones will be left out in the cold?" Moff Rosset asks. "You are as aware of the current political climate as I am and know that a partial fulfillment will only stroke tensions even further. There will be those who are fortunate enough to get the food, and those who still have to wait."

"Then leave the distribution to me. Jedi are known for their aid work after all," I say with a false smile. I know full well what Moff Rosset is trying to do. None of the three present want such a hot issue in their laps, especially if the issue can later burn them, and badly. So, they're giving it to the sacrificial 'I have to help everyone in the galaxy because it's my nature' Jedi, and minimizing their risks. "This way no one can accuse any one Moff of influencing who has what allotment, and if anything goes wrong, the blame will be placed on my shoulders and not on one of yours. And further benefiting you, if _any_ food gets sent to the Remnant, all three of you will be responsible for making that happen."

The three Moffs all exchange a single glance, then nod. "Provided the local governments agree, you have our approval."

"Governor?"

Mirith Sinn-Kanos sends a sympathetic look in my direction before she too nods. "The Government of Nez Peron agrees. We'll forward the arrangement to Ord Cestus, and it's likely they'll agree as well."

"Then you can expect the first Star Destroyers to arrive within two days," I say, before either Moff could back out. "The faster we clear out the pirates, the faster this sector can increase their productivity."

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Jedi Knight Altamik."

"The same," I shake the offered hand. "Moffs, I'll see you at the next council meeting?"

"Indeed," Drakl says. "Thank you for everything."

"I did it for the people, Moff Drakl," I say tonelessly. "Not for the politics."

"Thank you nonetheless," Drakl nods. "We are fortunate that a Jedi of your diplomatic tact was assigned to our Empire."

"Feeling's mutual," I say, completely lying through my teeth.

All too often I would patch up a problem, only to see another pop up again. The Empire is a sinking ship. I know it, the Moffs know it, even the 'loyal' citizens of the Empire know it. Yet, for some reason, we all continue to cling to some shred of hope that it can be saved. Oh well, at least this problem was averted. I doubt I would have to wait long for another to be passed to me.

**[-(IV)-][-(IV)-]**

Vaping Moffs, I was right. I get back home, unpack, and no sooner do I step into the shower of my spacious, almost obscenely opulent flat in the heart of Taspir III, than I get another comm-call. A flick of my wrist turns off the water, and another activates the voice-only intercom.

"Jedi Altamik here."

"_Jedi, this is Representative Solen, of the United Front for Imperial Refugees."_

The moment I hear the name, I just have to close my eyes and call on the Force to calm myself. There goes my nice relaxing shower. "One moment, Representative Solen."

I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around himself and another around my hair as I re-enter the bedroom. I reactivate my comm-system. "Go ahead."

"_Sorry for the intrusion, but I just received word that you've returned from some diplomatic negotiations and wanted to get to you before you were tied up in anything else."_

"Well, Representative Solen, you were certainly successful in that. What can I do for you?"

"_As you are well aware, my organization takes care of the four-point-two-three billion Imperial refugees created by the war, and the seven-point-six billion additional refugees in systems that formally belonged to the Empire."_

"The point, please, Representative Solen."

"_Right,"_the man clears his throat in a way that makes me wince. _"We've entered into negotiations to settle a good amount of the refugees in the Dolis and Delephr systems. The main drawback is that Dolis Two requires heavy terraforming or vacuum-sealed shelters to be adequately livable. While the Moff who has power over the Delephr system does not wish to let a stream of refugees unbalance his currently tight grip on power. He has popular support for keeping what he calls the 'riffraff' out of his territory."_

"Still waiting to see why you need a Jedi, Representative Solen," I say, my patience short. "Like I've told you countless times before, I'm not allowed to interfere in the internal politics of the Empire. If the Moff doesn't want to let refugees in, I can't do anything about that. I also don't have any terraforming equipment stowed away so I can't help you with Dolis Two either."

"_I know, I know_," he says quickly. _"But if you could somehow just talk with the Moffs of the Carrion and Obtrexta sectors. Maybe they'll be more receptive if a Jedi is making the request. For some reason, the both of them have stopped answering my calls."_

I look longingly at my nice comfortable bed and sigh dejectedly."Very well, Representative Solen. I'll do my best. No promises though."

"_Thank you, Jedi Altamik! I'll make sure that the eleven billion lives you are helping to better know your contribution. I'll even dedicate a statue to…"_

I cut him off, glaring at the imaginary face in the ceiling. Sadly, the United Front for Imperial Refugees is just one of several aide organizations I as a Jedi work with. They are also, unfortunately, the most needy due to the fact that they help non-humans and populations of worlds oft-times marginalized by the Empire. Whenever I receive a request from them, it almost always involves slogging my way through the morass that is Imperial politics.

This time is no different.

The overseer of the Obtrexta sector is one of the newer Moffs, Voryam Bhao. Due to the prominence of his sector and the major hyperspace lanes it controlled, the man is very arrogant, fairly powerful, and has a sneer that just gets on my nerves. He also is an ally of candidate for Grand Moff, Quille, and in opposition of Grand Admiral Pellaeon's moderate policies. Though not as extreme as Quille, he nevertheless has the High Empire in mind whenever he talks about the Imperial Remnant's future.

And from bad to worse. Moff Dilaan Rezer is the Carrion sector's newly instated overseer. A Yuuzhan Vong War hero who survived the massacre at Muunilinst, the man is also in Quille's camp. But unlike Moff Bhao, Rezer is every bit as fanatical about human superiority. Which, of course, says volumes about his reasons for not letting the United Front move people into his sector.

I glance back at the shower, knowing full well that I'd need it after the negotiations that await me. But such is the life of a Jedi in our glorious New Jedi Order.

For those species not well versed in human vocal practices, I'm being _extremely_ facetious.

So, out the door and to my ship I go again. I've always found it better, and had better results, whenever I meet the Moffs in person. That way they can't just turn off the comm channel if they want to get rid of me.

A short trip, and a few hours of negotiations later, and I'm walking out of the Obtrexta sector headquarters with Moff Voryam Bhao's personal guarantee that the terraforming equipment and personnel will be available for the refugees. What did settling four billion people cost me? Well, about fourteen percent of the first dozen food shipments out of the D'Astan sector, I had whittled him down from eighteen, and my personal praising of his 'humanitarian' efforts when the equipment is handed over. Ugh. In all though, that went a lot better than I had hoped.

Next stop, the Carrion sector.

The moment I land on the planet though, a chill runs down my spine. It was the sort of chill that I had felt at Quille's rally. Nonetheless, I had over seven billion people relying on me to get them a new home planet, and my duty as a Jedi to do—see, 'You don't really have a choice,' in the Jedi Handbook, page one.

Sorry, Tionne, couldn't resist.

The Carrion sector had been one of the four to fall to the Yuuzhan Vong during the war, and like the Presfbelt, Velcar, and Clacis sectors, it still had yet to show any signs of recovery due to the limited resources the Empire had at its disposal. The heart and life's blood of the sector was the Delephr system, where several powerful shipping companies once operated throughout the Empire. Much of the Empire's food problems also stemmed from this sector, due to the fact that the Gelda and Baramorra systems had been a major part of its breadbasket; in their heyday producing as much as forty-eight percent of all the food for its neighboring sectors.

Now, however, the civilian shipyards and businesses on Delephr Prime lay in ruins. The arable planets of the Gelda system were either flash-fried so that no crops would grow for a very long time, or still recovering from the vongforming initiated by the Yuuzhan Vong shapers. Much of the sector's population had been deported when it fell, with several hundred thousand being used as living-shields, lab subjects, or psychological weapons. Those who did return to the system found it wholly different than what they had left behind when they fled.

Moff, Dilaan Rezer probably had no more than ten million souls to oversee and a part of me could already figure out his motives for not wanting the refugees in his sector. Apart from his apathy to anything non-human, a surge of refugees in any of his systems would send the population of his sector skyrocketing from the millions to the billions almost overnight. What few resources he was hoarding for himself and his inner circle would instantly be stretched thin.

Then again, maybe I'm giving the guy too much credit. He could just be denying the refugees access to his unoccupied planets purely because he could.

I walk up to the reception droid.

"Jedi Altamik, I have a meeting with the Moff."

"One moment please." The droid runs a check. "If you can wait one moment, Moff Rezer is currently in a meeting with Moff Quille. I will let him know that you have arrived, however."

"Thank you." Never hurts to be polite to a droid, the poor things were the focus of enough hate during the Yuuzhan Vong War.

Before I can even sit down on a nearby bench, the droid exclaims. "Oh, Moff Rezer has given me permission to let you up. I apologize for the inconvenience."

Now that's either good or bad.

I bypass the droid and take the turbolift up to Moff Rezer's office. Unlike most Moff offices, his has the bare minimum in terms of both furnishings and comfort. I'd been to his office once before, again on behalf of another refugee group, and it was about as cold as his personality. The metal walls of the room are Imperial black, as are the floors, the metal desk and leather chairs, and the tinted windows. I still am not sure if he keeps the cooling systems on, but it's always at least ten degrees cooler in his office than the lobby outside.

The simple metal doors slide open, and I'm hit with that rush of icy air.

"Jedi Altamik, welcome. Moff Bhao said I should be expecting you," Dilaan Rezer says with a frosty smile, his dark hair speckled with gray. "You know Moff Quille?"

"We've met," I force myself to mimic his expression as I bow to both Moffs. "I apologize for the intrusion."

"Oh no, no need," Moff Quille continues the theme of false politeness. "Your activities in the Empire have been of great benefit to our loyal citizens."

Knowing when I'm being set up, I just nod and take a seat. "If you've spoken with Moff Bhao, you know why I'm here?"

"Yes," Dilaan says. "And I was actually just talking with Voster here about that. You see, even if I accept food-aid or credits, or whatever other services the Jedi might be able to provide, my sector simply can't handle the number of refugees you want to move into it. I can take at most ten percent of the number you propose, but no more."

"You have an alternate plan?" I fold my hands in my lap, trying to get a read on him. But Dilaan either is very good at keeping his thoughts to himself or is trained to resist mind probes and I can't get anything beyond a sense of calmness.

"We do," Moff Quille answers. "What would you say if we allow those refugees to move to Bastion?"

"Bastion?"

"Nearly ninety percent of the group you wish to settle is non-human," Dilaan says. "Bastion is a planet fully capable of supporting all life but human-kind. You move the aliens there, temporarily of course, and everything else is kept to the status quo. The planet gets populated again, and we don't have to worry about stressing the capabilities of my sectors' supply chain."

I raise a single eyebrow. "You wish to turn Bastion into a non-human enclave? Or a non-human prison? Once there, they'll have to go through rigorous decontamination processes to even get clearance to leave."

"But they will have a home, an environment capable of supporting their lifestyles," Dilaan countered. "And Bastion will no longer be the mausoleum it is today. Why let a perfectly good planet go to waste, one that already has a sewer system, power grid, and everything else one needs to live, and spend time and resources trying to transform another planet in its place."

"And you're of course giving me this spiel because you want me to convince Moff Sarreti to agree to this plan."

"Your word will be helpful. Ephin has always been an ally to you Jedi and might be more receptive of this plan if you are the one to bring it to him. Because, quite frankly, Jedi Altamik, I see no other way those alien refugees will be able to get a planet otherwise."

I do my best not to show any emotion. They know full well that what they're doing wouldn't ever receive the approval of the Jedi Order. Of course, they're also challenging me to come up with a better plan, a plan that would undoubtedly help Moff Quille get elected. They sure know how to cover all their bases.

See why I curse my parents' proclivity for all things political?

"You have an alternative solution, Jedi Altamik?" Quille prompts, showing just which Moff was actually in charge of the conversation.

"Something that keeps Bastion from becoming a 'home' to the Empire's non-human species? Yes," I say, without actually having a plan in mind at that instant. Fortunately, the Force has always graced me with the ability to think on my feet, and it's definitely come in handy. But its also gotten me into just as much trouble. As I review what I'm about to say, I wince.

Force, I hope the High Council will understand, but again the lives of billions of refugees are riding on my decision. I still can't believe I'm actually going to help Quille get elected to Grand Moff. "If I understand your platform correctly, Moff Quille, you believe that the High Empire can be restored on the backs of a human-centric government."

"You understand correctly."

"What better way to show that the High Empire can be revived than by reclaiming Bastion for human-kind," I inject as much of my Imperial accent into my voice as possible, knowing that it would help my case on a subconscious level.

"I'm listening."

"Though the Vong have yet to discover an anti-virus, the virus can be destroyed at high heat. Glass a section of the planet outside of Ravelin and establish a safe-zone, an atmospheric shell from which you can begin rebuilding. It will show the resilience of human-kind, but also their boldness in the face of obvious death. You can even build sealed-off corridors back to buildings such as the Imperial Library and Imperial Headquarters, reclaiming them for your government. The project will be costly, but it will be a testament that not even the Yuuzhan Vong could keep the humans from reclaiming the planet. I'll also pledge the support of the Jedi Order if you agree."

"And in exchange?" Moff Quille is good, but he isn't so good as to completely shut off the spike of greed that escaped from his calm façade.

"Moff Rezer allows the refugees to settle in his sector, and you supply and support their settlement in other hospitable and livable planets as well. It'll be a win-win for all of us. Not only will you be seen as benevolent and merciful Moffs to the alien population, you'll be seen as the ones returning the Empire to Bastion; something even Moff Sarreti hasn't been able to accomplish. In exchange I get those refugee organizations off my back and look good for my superiors as well. The Jedi Order also has their image enhanced as we return life to another war-ravaged world."

There was another long pause.

Finally Moff Rezer cleared his throat. "It will take a while to sort through all the details."

"Naturally," I say, my blank face against theirs.

"We'll agree to this deal in spirit," Moff Quille said gruffly. "We'll contact you later when we have the plans laid out?"

"I'll be expecting your call. As a sign of good faith I shared my plan for Bastion with you, can you at least begin letting the United Front refugees settle in the Carrion sector?"

Moff Rezer looks to Quille, who nods in turn. "That's doable."

"I know this may be premature, Moff Quille, but congratulations on your election," I say with standard Imperial wit, holding out a hand.

"No, thank _you_Jedi Knight Altamik, it's thanks to the Jedi Order that it will be possible after all."

Why do I get the feeling that I've just made a very big mistake?

I leave the office with a heavy stomach. The kind you get when you have an important multiple choice test in front of you and are forced to pick between two answers. You choose one, leave the room, and immediately regret that choice.

Now was the time to contact the Jedi Order and let them know that I've just volunteered their services on a not-so-unpolitical aid effort on a planet full of a human-killing virus. I don't need to be a Jedi to know that Master Katarn is probably going to be either disappointed or cross with me. I know I would be if I were him.

**[-(V)-][-(V)-]**

As I mentioned earlier in this holocron, since my last name isn't Horn, Solo, or Skywalker, I don't have instant access to the High Council. My immediate superiors are Jedi Master Jaden Korr and Kyle Katarn, both in charge of the unofficial diplomatic division of the New Jedi Order. It's their job to coordinate all us Jedi Ambassadors across the galaxy, from Bakura to Corellia and the Tion Hegemony, to Hutt Space, the Empire and the Ascendancy. They handle any of the more serious issues that might crop up, which are very eclectic in nature. Each of us have different mandates to fit our situation and power to approve most reasonable request without checking in. Some of us have an easier time of doing that than others.

For example, all Ambassador Solo of the Ascendancy has to do is help the Chiss explore the Unknown Regions and keep track of all those Unknown Region aliens that might eventually want to invade this fragile galaxy of ours. Politics or death is the last thing she really has to worry about.

The Jedi Ambassador to Hutt space, Jedi Knight Bazel Warv, is tasked not with keeping the Hutts honest, that'd be impossible even for a Jedi, but to help facilitate the trade between allied powers and mediate any trade disputes that might pop up. He has his hands full with the various commerce guilds and banking clans, and actually works with several other Jedi to help restore this galaxy's ravaged economic system and supply lines.

Corellia's Ambassadors are helping Corellia get back to its feet, but are also exploring the feasibility of establishing a Jedi Praxeum on Corellia itself. Similar to my situation, the main challenge the Jedi Horns face is pride and politics. They're worried that if they start an academy on Corellia, we'll end up with a bunch of Corellian Knights loyal to the Corellian government and not to galactic peace. Which, given how nationalistic Corellia has become over the past two years, really isn't a good thing.

Bakura's Jedi Ambassador actually sits on their coalition government and provides the lone Jedi voice all the way on that side of the galaxy. While the Tion Hegemony's Jedi Ambassador, Jedi Knight Sothais Saar, is busy countering a rise in the slave trade as more and more refugees are taken advantage of or fall on hard times.

In any case, Master Korr and Master Katarn deal with it all and have the power to veto our decisions if they're too outlandish or go against our mandates.

I take a seat at the desk in my flat and bring up my hypercom unit. After inputting my code and security scrambler, I wait to be connected to Denon, the _Raven's_ _Claw,_or wherever else those two masters might be off at.

"_Kyle here, go ahead Jedi Knight Altamik."_

"Master Katarn, how is my favorite Jedi Master doing today?" I begin brightly. "And your wife? Is she enjoying her new position as head of GA's Spec-Ops divisions?"

I should probably mention that he's vetoed more of my decisions than the decisions of any of the other Ambassadors. It's not my fault, really. It's mainly because working with the Moffs is like trying to work with the leaders of a dozen ideologically separate governments. One will often request something that will go against another and it's kriffing impossible to stay politically impartial if I want to get things done. To be fair, with the Empire in the state it's in, I've also gone to the Order with serious problems more times than any of the others and had just as many decisions accepted. I still wouldn't gamble on my chances of having any one proposal accepted however; Master Katarn and Korr bend the rules, but they won't break them.

Kyle straightens in his chair—he's in the _Raven's Claw_by the way—and fixes me the 'serious face' that all Jedi Masters seem to be experts at. _"It has to be a bad one if you're starting off like that, Jedi Altamik. I was doing rather well, and Jan loves her job, but get to the point, Altamik. Your political tricks don't work on me."_

"Had to try," I shrug one shoulder. "In short, I've had to help get Moff Quille a leg up on his rival in order to get over seven billion refugees settled on some place that wasn't a virus-ridden, quarantine world. I've said that the Order will provide resources to help with the resettlement of Bastion."

_"Just last report you said you would trust the Vong Supreme Overlord over Moff Quille as leader."_

"Funny thing, politics, yeah?"

_"There was no other option?"_

"At the time, no. The refugees needed a planet, preferably more than one. The ships they have aren't meant to support entire planetary populations and are already beginning to break down from the heavy usage. Moff Quille's allies have control of those planets we need and are the only ones equipped enough to absorb the heavy influx of refugees. Moff Quille might not be my preferred choice, but he's on the up with the rest of the Empire and will probably become leader without my help. We can either continue to oppose or remain neutral to him, or get on his good side while his ideologies are still somewhat palatable. Force knows they'll only become more extreme as his power base grows. At least this way we can at least appear to be allies to temper some of that."

Kyle is silent for a moment, no doubt mulling my proposal over. Finally, he shakes his head. _"A decision this big will have to be discussed with the Jedi members of the High Council. Though your plan would help the billions of refugees, we'll also be directly affecting the local politics and changing the balance of power. Both Moff Sarreti and Grand Admiral Pellaeon are longtime known allies of the Jedi Order. From the reports you've sent about Quille, he'll be an ally to the order in name only."_

"Master, with all due respect, both Moff Sarreti and Gilad Pellaeon no longer have the power nor influence that they had during the war. With the grand admiral now coordinating anti-piracy taskforces in the Mid-Rim and Outer Rim territories, his influence over the Council of Moffs has been flagging as of late. And Moff Sarreti, as useful an ally as he has been, is losing supporters to Quille on a daily basis. The general feeling of the Empire is that it was the follies of both those men that have reduced the Empire to what it is today, with Bastion being a glaring example. Now we can continue to support our longtime allies on a sinking ship, or change our support to the ones best capable of keeping the Empire intact."

_"How very Imperial of you,"_ Kyle remarks glibly, causing me to wince. Maybe I've been attached to the Empire a tad longer than is healthy. _"I'll pass on your opinion of the situation to the others."_

"Please inform the others that, Imperial politics aside, the restoration of Bastion will also help the Jedi image in this little corner of the galaxy," I say. "Frigid is a word I would use to describe most of my interactions with the Imperial citizens as many blame the actions of the Jedi for dragging the Empire into the war with the Vong."

_"I'll get back to you as soon as I can,"_Kyle says seriously. _"But I happen to agree with you, Jedi Altamik. Until I get full approval from the others, you have my permission to begin using what resources are already at your disposal to help the settling of the refugees and the repopulation of Bastion. Since restoring an entire planet is a bit too much for any one Jedi, I'm sending over Jedi Knights Arelis and Bann, as well as a science team led by the Arranda siblings."_

"Much appreciated," I exhale in relief. Avinoam Arelis and Kunor Bann are two Jedi I knew back in my academy days. Kunor had returned to Commenor during the war to help fight the Vong occupation and had stayed there for the entirety of the war. While Avinoam had been from New Holgha and fought alongside his master, Jedi Knight Kubariet, in the fringe territories. Both were well versed politically, and smart enough to have survived the Jedi-hunting squads and Peace Brigade sympathizers despite being on their own.

But my sigh of relief was not just for the added help. I was relieved because of Master Katarn's foresight to send _human_ Jedi. Not that I have anything against the other races, but Moff Quille probably wouldn't be so kind if he had to negotiate with an Ithorian or a Bothan, or some of the definitely non-human Jedi in our Order.

As if reading my thoughts over the holocomm, Master Katarn raises an eyebrow, and I immediately look away. "Sorry. You know the politics over here. It's an absolute nightmare."

_"Hey, keep focused on what__you__value, Turi,"_Kyle chides gently. _"As much as you want to help the region be stable, you're a Jedi first and an ally to the Empire second. We serve the Force and not the whims and prejudices of certain politicians._

"I am," I say hastily. "I really am. It's just so hard sometimes to separate what the Force wants and what we have to do to fulfill the Force's needs. I'm supposed to be helping the refugees and displaced people, but the only way I can do that is by making deals with Sithspawn reborn."

_"Do you need any additional help out there?"_Kyle asks, worry in his voice.

I smile faintly and shake my head. "I can tough it out, Master Katarn. Don't worry."

_"Hard not to,"_ Kyle shoots back. _"In some ways, all you ambassadors are my apprentices."_

"Long range relationship, that is," I chuckle. "In any case, I'll begin using the allotted resources the Order has set aside for the Empire. Tell Kunor and Avinoam that I'll be in the orbital station above Bastion when they arrive. The Arrandas can coordinate with the Imperial Science Head Sanix Fous for their contributions. When you get full approval, send whatever you can."

_"Understood, good luck, Katarn out."_

[-(VI)-][-(VI)-]

It's been four months since I last picked up this holocron. I'm not going to apologize for the delay. Beginning and directing the building of special shelters on Bastion, resettling a population of billions, and dealing with the Moffs took up much of my time. I'm amazed that I've even managed to squeeze a meditation or two in given how busy I've been.

I'm now speaking from Special Exclusion Zone Five on Bastion; one of seven zones on the planet that was glassed from orbit, and then sterilized even further so that it would be safe for humans to live. Shield emitters situated around the perimeter keeps this area enclosed in a transparent dome of protective energy. The only way into the city is a specially constructed spaceport that decontaminates all arrivals and keeps everything sterile.

Progress has been slow and nerve-wracking, and it's pretty clear that this will be a project I'll be involved with for a very long time. Not only is the Empire counting on the restoration of Bastion to boost sagging morale, but the Jedi Order is fully invested in the project to help restore the Jedi name among the Imperial citizens.

Right, I forgot to mention; Master Katarn took my proposal to the High Council, where it received a unanimous vote of support. This means that both Jedi Order _and_ Galactic Alliance resources are being spent on this project. And because the Moffs don't want to take a gamble on a potentially wasteful project, everything gets routed to the Jedi Ambassador to the Imperial Remnant…me. Even with the added Jedi the council and Master Katarn sent, I'm still juggling everything being thrown my way.

Of course, with the restoration of Bastion underway, and the good will he gained from settling the non-human refugees, Moff Quille was elected Grand Moff of the Dynali Sector by a landslide. He now carries more political clout than Moff Sarreti. With sad respect to my old ally, I've found myself going to Grand Moff Quille more and more to cut through the red-tape and get things done. I've nothing against Moff Sarreti, he's a good man and was the one who helped ease my transition as the Jedi Order's first Ambassador to the Empire. But this is politics and just being a good man won't help me do the things required of me in this political briar patch.

On the other hand, I've everything against Grand Moff Quille. He knows it, knows that his policies run afoul of my Jedi sensibilities, and even seems to delight in it. Yet neither of us say anything. We have our agendas, and at the moment working together actually helps advance both. I know, however, it is only a matter of time before I'll regret helping his election. Is the lives of over seven billion alien refugees really worth the future price this galaxy will pay with Grand Moff Quille at the helm of the battered and demoralized Empire?

In any case, the decision has already been made and there isn't much I can do but continue to stride towards whatever fate is in store for the Empire. What happens will happen, and as distasteful as things might become, I'll know that I at least did some good in settling all those people.

Anyway, I'll try to update the holocron a bit later, but as you can probably tell, I'm up to my ears in work.

I hope I've given all of you new Jedi out there a look at the glorious life of Jedi Diplomat post-Yuuzhan Vong War. It's not pretty, it's not easy, and it definitely isn't for the fainthearted and spineless. Unless you're willing to at least bend your own morals, you're not going to get far, especially if you're assigned to a place like the Empire. Until next time, this is Turi Altamik, signing off.

**[-(End)-]**

**A\N**:No action in this chapter, but plenty coming up (end of February and March) as the next two chapters take us to Dathomir. If you couldn't tell, this chapter is heavy in set-up for what I have planned for the sequel. (I was also experimenting with first-person story writing =p). For those not familiar with post-NJO canon, and too lazy to wiki it, Quille is a canon Grand Moff who opposes Pellaeon and sides with Caedus. In my universe, Quille's picks up a new friend (hinted at in the second scene of this chapter), and will go on to play a role similar to his role in canon. Turi Altamik is also a canon character, one of the Jedi struck with psychosis, but she has very little by way of a canonized background...so, being the inventive fish that I am, I made it up =).


	3. Chapter 3

Facing the Future

_Never concede to evil. That is our oldest and most sacred law. When we concede to evil, even in a small way, we feed it, and it grows stronger._

-Augwynne Djo

**I—(I)—I **

Sanola Ti, niece of Jedi Master Kirana Ti, had just been a child during the Yuuzhan Vong War. While the older tribeswomen fought off Yuuzhan Vong warriors, she had been hidden away with the rest of the children in sacred groves and secret networks of caves.

Now only a few months away from her fourteenth year of life, Sanola was a cowering child no longer. Like her aunt, she too was a Force-sensitive member of the renowned Singing Mountain Clan on Dathomir. Entering into her teenage years, she wanted to prove both to herself and to the other members of her clan that she was worthy of being Kirana's niece, worthy of being born into the Singing Mountain Clan.

Her training staff whisked through the air in a barely perceptible blur, clacking loudly against two others. Not even a second had passed between the meeting of their weapons when she dug one end of the staff into the ground and used it to spin herself around; kicking away both opponents with lightning fast reflexives. A third opponent leapt at her, but she flicked her staff up and caught her attacker in the chest, dropping the assailant to the ground.

"Good," the supervising instructor, Jedi Knight Damaya said curtly. "But had this been a real fight you would be dead, Sanola."

"I bested the three of them," Sanola argued, gesturing to where her three opponents were now nursing newly forming bruises.

"Did you?" Damaya had the unenviable position of being the niece to a fairly vicious Nightsister who had been exiled from the Singing Mountain Clan after trying to assassinate its leader. Very few in Singing Mountain trusted her, yet Kirana Ti was a clear exception to that majority.

The long, raven-haired Damaya, hair done up in customary Dathomiri braids, seemed to glide across the stone and gravel floor. She gestured with a single hand. "Aggression, however controlled it may be, cannot prevail on its own. Your desire to win was admirable, but you would have joined the others in death, I think."

Sanola noted her Rancor-leather tunic and saw red paint marks across her stomach and legs. Her head jerked up in a flash, her mind trying to process when the others had scored the hits. "What? How?"

"While two sacrificed themselves, the third landed the killing blows," Damaya held up one of the training weapons being used. It was a training staff equipped with dye brushes on the end to mark where each blow would land. "That is, of course, before they both landed marks of their own." Damaya used the training staff and pointed at Sanola's shoulder and at her back.

Sanola hissed in frustration. "Again, then! I'll be more careful this time."

Damaya shook her head. "Not today, Sanola. You _will _earn the title of Jedi Knight, but in time. Do not rush so quickly to a fate that is already certain. Kima, Sansu, Negala, thank you for your participation, you may return to your duties."

The three other Dathomiri witches all bowed politely and departed.

Sanola couldn't help but stare at her feet. She had failed again. Despite all her preparation, all her training, she was no closer to becoming a Jedi Knight than she had been at the beginning of the year. "Why, Damaya? I would have succeeded."

"You might have, yes. But you would not have learned the lesson taught today by your defeat," Damaya said patiently. "There is much more to becoming a Jedi than rank, than power, or a desire to do good."

"I know that!" Sanola said green eyes blazing like burning copper. "But I waste my time here on lessons and philosophy when I could be out in the galaxy aiding the other Jedi. I've heard the stories. In the war, the Jedi Order even let twelve year old girls fight. How could a waif of a Jedi be any more prepared for the demands of the Order than me?"

"The times were different, Sanola," Damaya said patiently. They walked out of the sparring room and through the cavernous walkways of the Jedi Praxeum on Dathomir.

The Praxeum had been founded by Streen, Damaya, and Kirana shortly after the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War, with the goal of teaching the powerful Force-sensitive population of a planet equally powerful in the Force. Everything about the new academy emphasized the unique teachings and culture of the planet's people.

Carved out of cliff overlooking one of Dathomir's vast oceans, the Jedi Praxeum was located directly beneath a vast savanna and a thick forest teeming with wildlife, a few dozen kilometers from the Singing Mountain. Rancors, brackaset, and purbole roamed the ground above, while schools of burra fish occupied the waters below, and saurians glided in the skies above. The red-brown rock from which the praxeum was carved from only contributed to the exotic and untamed nature the place exuded.

It was a sharp contrast to the artificial buildings of the Ossus Praxeum, or the militaristic-style of the praxeum on Yavin Four. Inside, the hallways were towering—easily able to fit two Dathomiri Rancors standing on top of each other—with roughly hewn arches holding up the unfinished ceiling. The rooms varied in size and shape, with doorways that sometimes required a person to duck their heads to enter, or access-ways that required one to turn several times before reaching the main chamber.

The core of the praxeum had once been the home to an ancient Dathomiri clan—widely believed to have been a clan with direct ties to the founder of the Dathomir clans, Allya, herself. Though lost to a forgotten war centuries ago, the presence left by this clan could be felt in every rock, every stone archway and flagstone. It was even said that the ghosts of this lost clan would occasionally make themselves known; giving their blessing to the new purpose their home had been dedicated to. It was no coincidence that the praxeum had been constructed around such an integral part of Dathomir culture. In the three years it had been operational its success in merging traditional Dathomiri teachings and the culture of the Jedi Order had been great, with multiple clans welcoming the combined dogma that emerged from the two.

The walls of the academy were adorned with the symbols of the many clans that made up its diverse student population in a clear sign of unity. Instead of Jedi robes, Rancor-leather was a more common sight. And it was not uncommon to see students riding Rancors through the hallways to get from one lesson to another. Nearly every clan was represented in some way or form, with over fifty Dathomiri students in attendance. It was not unusual to see a clan leader teaching members of other tribes about unique spells and techniques that had once been hoarded by the clan. Even Teneniel Djo, the new leader of the Singing Mountain Clan, frequently graced the halls of the praxeum with her presence; she had seemingly regained some of her vitality as she spent most her days giving lessons to the younger Dathomiri initiates.

Often lost in the crowd of Dathomiri were a few Jedi 'exchange' students, who had traveled to Dathomir to learn a different perspective about the Force and the galaxy as a whole. There were only six of them—two males, three females, and a newly minted Iron Knight—and their ways were as alien to the Dathomiri as the Dathomiri ways were alien to them. The males had been warned about what to expect regarding the very matriarchal society practiced by the Dathomiri, but they decided to brave the anti-male sentiment anyways. In doing so, they had actually earned the respect of their peers, who grudgingly accepted their presence without scorn.

"You mean the Order was at war and desperate," Sanola countered Damaya.

"Yes," Damaya said with a raised eyebrow. "And many at the time argued that the children shouldn't have been involved. I know that those young ones already regret losing their childhood to the war."

"We're Dathomiri."

"We're also mortal. And your aunt would be more than displeased with me should any harm come to you. You will have your time, Sanola, I promise. But that time is not now."

"Then when?" Sanola pressed, flicking her lone, dark-brown braid in agitation. "Already half my friends have been selected for off-world missions. Some of the others are even allowed to go out as diplomats to the tribes that have yet to join the academy. When will I get a _real_ mission? Not a job escorting dignitaries or a 'find an ancient artifact or dead person's robes' throw away quest. "

"Perhaps when…" Damaya paused as her comlink chirped. Holding out a staying hand, she unhooked the device with her other. "Go ahead."

"_Damaya, is Sanola with you?"_

"She is."

_"Good, can you please bring her to the main chamber? I've been talking with Master Streen and the leaders of the other clans, and we've managed to reach an important decision regarding the future of this academy."_

"We will be there shortly," Damaya replied. She looked to Sanola. "Well, Jedi Apprentice Ti, it appears your prayers may have been answered. I know of the decision she speaks of, and it looks as if you will soon receive your first 'real' mission."

**I—(II)—I **

"I've called you all here for a matter of great importance," Jedi Master Kirana Ti, and lead instructor of the Dathomiri Jedi Praxeum, said. The room's acoustics made it so that the gathered students could hear her even without a voice-amplifier. "The Clan Leaders, Jedi Master Streen, and myself, have reached an agreement that will affect all of your futures here at this academy. After three years, we have finally decided to extend an offering of peace to the Nightsister clans scattered throughout the planet. Instead of our usual policy of avoidance and denial, we will openly accept any member of a Nightsister clan that wishes to learn at this praxeum."

Immediately, chatter broke out amongst the students. One of the non-Dathomiri Jedi raised her hand. "Jedi Master Ti."

"Go ahead Jedi Apprentice Aiesi."

"Master, we were always taught that the Nightsisters are the Dathomir's version of a 'Sith' or dark Jedi. That they used forbidden, unethical abilities and cared little for anything but power."

Kirana inclined her head politely. "That is the common description of them, yes. But like the Jedi, not all Nightsisters are the same. In fact, the primary reason why they are separate from the other Dathomiri clans is because they do not wish to follow the Book of Law set down by Allya. The dark practices and unethical experiments you may have heard about only occur after Dathomiri society turns their backs on them, bars them from our trade, and denies them basic supplies. Given that the Book of Law is slowly changing into something more akin to guidelines instead of an actual legal codex, I believe it is time to invite them back into our society once more. Much can be learned from them, just as we have much to teach them as well."

"Can we trust them?" Another student, this time a Dathomiri Zabrak, asked. "Honor and honesty are not something _any_ Nightsister is known for."

"And should they trust us?" Kirana returned. "Most of our clans are dedicated to hunting down and slaying Nightsisters upon any encounter. Maybe what we're doing is a ploy to draw them out and take care of them in one fell swoop, to be rid of them so that we will have this planet for ourselves. Trust has to start somewhere, Jedi Apprentice Riesha."

Teneniel Djo stepped up next to Kirana. "The Singing Mountain Clan has already sent envoys to the Infinity Gate Clan, currently ruled by Queen Ros Lai. The queen has in turn expressed a similar interest in mending the gaping wound between our two sides. It is the hope of this academy that once one Nightsister clan allies with us, the others will be quicker to follow."

"Now, we know there are some concerns, but we have decided that the benefits far outweigh the risks," Streen said congenially. "For one, the reunification of the Nightsister tribes with the clans who follow the will of Allya, will ensure a stronger Dathomir. No longer will there be whole tribes of Dathomiri trying to kill one and other. The time you now spend doing that can be turned into something much more productive. Another thing, as Master Ti has touched on, is that there is much to be learned from one and other. Already the benefits of sharing different clan techniques and philosophies have challenged our views of the Force, our views of this planet and the galaxy it resides in. Once we learn to see what the Nightsisters see, we will have an even better understanding of the greater Force that runs through everything."

Kirana spoke once more. "The times are changing. No longer can we hold on to our old prejudices and grudges. It is even said that Allya herself would have wanted a stronger Dathomir, and in her later years, would have done everything in her power to reach out to those disillusioned by her teachings. She is still with us in spirit, and we will do our best to honor her memory by welcoming the Nightsisters into our society once more. A team of ten of you will be dispatched to the Infinity Gate Clan to continue negotiations on behalf of both this academy, but also for the many Dathomiri clans it represents. You will be going as both Dathomiri and Jedi, so your burden will be doubly so. But I have the greatest faith in those who have been chosen for the mission, and I know that they will succeed. That is all."

The excited babble broke out once more as expressions of eagerness, disbelief, and anger mingled. Sanola Ti was of the former of the three. From the faint nod Damaya had given her, she knew that she would be among those selected as envoys to the Nightsister village.

As she thought about her assignment, tales of adventure and daring played back in her mind. Some were those told by the older Dathomiri, about the dangers and corruption of the Nightsisters. Others were the magnificent tales of Jedi of old, masterfully told and broadcasted by Tionne Solusar from the confines of the Jedi Praxeum at Ossus.

"Apprentice Ti," Damaya said, her voice making itself heard through the din around them. "Follow me."

Sanola beamed and eagerly followed her mentor through the crowd and to a side room.

Members of other Dathomiri clans soon joined the two of them. Discounting the instructors, all those who arrived were around her age. It was an even split between the teenage boys and girls, human and Dathomir. Nine of the ten young teens were on their home planet, with one of the 'exchange students' rounding out their group. They each took a seat at a long rectangular table and waited patiently to learn of their duty.

They did not wait long. Teneniel and Kirana both stepped through the door, their expressions betraying nothing.

The doors closed behind the two Dathomiri Witches, and Teneniel surveyed the gathered individuals with a regal tilt of her head. "The ten of you have been specially chosen for this important mission for many different reasons. Some are skilled with their words, others with their lightsaber, others still, with their minds. I cannot stress the importance of this mission and what it will mean for Dathomir should we succeed. To avoid the impression that we are invading Nightsister territory, Damaya will be your only instructor on this mission. We are sending you, instead of using standard holocomms or a fully trained unit of Jedi Knights, because we believe you are all capable enough, skilled enough, to brave the challenges this planet may present you. We also wish to prove to the Nightsister clan that even our initiates and apprentices have what it takes to survive on this harsh planet, have the strength that the Nightclans so often respect."

The ten young teens sobered immediately.

Kirana moved to the opposite end of the table and began speaking. With hard green eyes and a tall, muscular form, the leader of the Dathomiri Praxeum had always radiated strength—both physical and mental—an aura that infused those around her with purpose and determination. "Despite this mission being a peaceful one, we fully expect danger in several forms. The trek you will take will take you across great swaths of unexplored Dathomiri territory, the Wilds so to speak. Additionally, Queen Ros Lai has already informed us that at least two Nightsister Clans are opposed to such an alliance and will do everything in their power to thwart it.

Lastly, she also tells us of a possible Yuuzhan Vong garrison embedded in the mountain passes through which you will be traveling. We are unsure about the nature of this report, but from what she has relayed to us, purple-skinned men being invisible in the Force, it adds up. From her report, it is quite possible that this garrison is unaware that the war has ended, and as such, will be extremely hostile to any Force-users who venture into their territory. We have already sent word to the Freed Yuuzhan Vong, but we do not have the time to wait for them to arrive. Time is of the essence. Both Queen Ros Lai and myself are taking a great gamble with this alliance and cannot afford to let it come apart. The immediate future of Dathomir will now rest in your hands."

**I—(III)—I **

Feeling like she had a stomach full of flutterwings, Sanola took in and released several breaths as she gripped onto the reins of her Rancor-mount. It didn't help, and she was too anxious to call upon the Force, so the only thing she could do was stare at the pair of massive doors that led out of the Jedi Praxeum on Ossus; her home for a good portion of her young life.

"Nervous Jedi Apprentice Ti?" Broken Columns Clan member Rajade Lo asked from his Rancor. He was three years older than her, but from the male-controlled clan that lived in the ruins of an old procession way. Naturally, those of Broken Columns saw no need to kowtow to the female-dominant traditions of the other clans. Which, strangely enough, only made the men of their clan appear all the more stronger; and thus all the more desirable. Not that Sanola would ever entertain the idea of going out with this uppity Broken Columns clansmen.

"You wish," Sanola shot back with a grin. "You?"

"Course not," he returned with a smirk.

"I have a question," the 'exchange student' spoke up. Fifteen year old Nagai Apprentice, Aviana N'takkilomandrife stood out amongst the Dathomir and Zabrak students with her chalky gray-white skin and bluish black hair—the back of which was woven into a series of braids. She was the youngest of three children, and the only one to be Force sensitive. It was because of her other-worldly abilities that she had left her home galaxy to train with the Jedi. Despite being many hundreds of lightyears away from home, she seemed at ease atop her own Rancor-mount. "Why hasn't anyone made an effort to map out all of Dathomir? In this day and age, how can there be any 'unknown' regions on a lone planet?"

"All our cartographer droids and expedition teams keep getting eaten," Sanola answered dryly. "And no one bothers with Dathomir anyways. We certainly don't mind."

"That's it?"

"There's nothing more fun than the unknown," Rajade said with sparkling honey-colored eyes.

The large doors before them opened with a slow, loud, creak, and their banter fell silent as they took in the great outdoors that was revealed to them. Distant mountains, sprawling plains, lush forests, the glittering gems of Dathomir stretching out almost infinitely; all the while flocks of saurians and other avian creatures soared through the expanse of gray and white clouds above, and rays of sunlit coursed through in shimmering beams of gold. It had rained recently, so the air was fresh, the scent of trees and ocean wind mingling with every shifting breeze.

"The unknown, huh," Aviana said with a jerk of her head. "I like it."

"You fit in more and more every day, N'tak," Rajade complimented, using his nickname for her.

"Thanks," Aviana laughed softly. "This place is so unlike home, it's just so amazing. You Dathomiri have definitely made me feel welcome here."

Sanola just rolled her eyes. "Are we going to go on our mission or stand around ogling the sights?"

"Right, mission," both Rajade and Aviana looked away from one and other with flushed cheeks.

"We best get started then," Damaya said with a nod, once again ending the banter. "We'll be moving at a fast pace, resting every two days. By the end of the week, we should be meeting up with the Infinity Gate clan guides."

**I—(IV)—I **

Aviana received the concise and breakneck version of a tour of Dathomir, scanning the planet from the back of her Rancor as it whizzed past her in a dizzying blur. Streaks of green, brown, gray, blue, went by at a record pace as the group of eleven Jedi urged their Rancors to the fastest of paces. Wildlife scattered in terror at the sight of eleven gigantic Rancor thumping their way, and the ground shook from the heavy footfalls.

Despite the fact that they had been traveling for nearly two whole days, neither the young Jedi nor their mounts seemed to feel any fatigue at all. The Rancors were much heartier than that, and the young Jedi were much too excited with the mission they had been given.

Even Aviana, who was not of the planet, understood the importance and monumental undertaking she was a part of. As a Nagai, she was well aware of the benefits of making friends out of former enemies. Her own father had led an attack against the galaxy nearly thirty years ago and caused much damage. Yet at the end of it, he came away with allies and friends, and ensured Nagai freedom in the face of their mortal enemies, the Tofs. If the Dathomiri of the praxeum could make alliances with the Nightsisters, both sides would be all the stronger for it.

This was her second year on Dathomir, but it was still a very strange place to her. Coming from a society where the males held the majority of governmental and military leadership positions, watching the males on the planet be treated as second-class citizens was shocking to say the least. Although the Jedi Praxeum attempted to promote equality between the genders, it was hard to undo centuries of gender bias and tradition.

She had started her Jedi training on Ossus, under the guidance of Master Luke Skywalker himself. The once great leader of the Jedi Order was now little more than just another instructor at Ossus, helping his wife raise their two children. She did not think any less of the man though. After all, her own father had likewise given up his warring ways and politics to focus on his own family.

Ossus, however, was wholly different from Dathomir. Culture shock notwithstanding, Aviana found it hard to see how the Jedi Order could be so united when the philosophies from one praxeum to another could be so different. At Ossus, the emphasis was about learning to master one's self, one's doubts, about being the archetypical Jedi. Peace and harmony were valued greatly, friendships and unity core values with which their lessons were based around. There were over two dozen races represented, all working together for a single goal, all wanting to be Jedi.

Yet on Dathomir, it was independence that was highly valued; appreciations of war, of combat, of never underestimating one's foe. Dathomiri culture was deeply engrained in the types of lessons being taught, was reflected in the types of Jedi being produced. The Jedi of Dathomir were strategists, warriors, trained to take on multiple opponents all by one's self. They were also diplomats, but of the razor-edge sort; where a single, ill-chosen word would lead to disaster. The multiple Dathomiri clans present were united only because of the praxeum. Personal and historic differences hadn't been set aside just because the Jedi had set up shop, and those better inclined with words performed a daily balancing act to keep the different clan-heads satisfied.

Yes, the contrast was great indeed.

Her first lessons on Ossus had been meditation, using the Force to feel the planet around her and sync herself to its rhythms.

Her first lessons on Dathomir had been lightsaber forms, using the Force to feel her opponents and sync her movements with theirs.

It was as if Ossus had laid the groundwork and Dathomir had taken Ossus' lessons and turned them sideways.

"Hold!" Damaya held up a hand. The Rancor-mounts all obeyed, stopping in their tracks.

The delegation was at one end of a yawning chasm, a stone archway connecting one end to the other. They had traveled far in their two days of fast-pace travel, and were well outside the safety of the Singing Mountain Clan's territory. The fact that nearly a dozen Dathomiri-sized Rancors had been tromping through the forests and plains for the past two days also meant that they weren't exactly hard to find either. Either they could be heard coming from several kilometers away, or one merely had to follow the heavily worn trail their herd of Rancor had left behind. Even with the sun setting, the swath they had made in the landscape was more than a little noticeable.

"We'll make camp here for the night." Damaya gestured to the leafless, thick-trunked trees in their immediate area. "Two watch the bridge for any oncoming people, another two the path back. Switch shifts mid-way through the night. Remember, we're in Nightsister territory. The land beyond this bridge belongs to the Blood Gorge clan, so stay alert at all times."

Damaya's announcement was met by visible tension setting into many of the female members of the group, and sharp eyes darted towards the other side of the chasm. Anger and hatred flashed out before the young teens managed to control their emotions once more.

"Blood Gorge?" Aviana whispered to Rajade, not wanting to seem ignorant in front of the others.

"They're a small but vicious clan specializing in blood control," Rajade replied in a quiet voice as Damaya doled out the night's assignments. "Made up of mostly Nightbrothers, they're one of the clans in open war against Singing Mountain. They're also not helping the male cause on this planet much. Their known to abduct the women of other clans and then leave them for dead once a child has been born. It's how they sustain their population and insult every female on the planet at the same time."

"Oh," Aviana hissed, her hands dropping to the handles of the pair of Tehk'la blades she had strapped to the small of her back. "They've been allowed to live?"

Rajade grimaced. "Yeah. They make their homes at the bottom of the gorge," he gestured to the gap in front of them. "And are too entrenched to attack without serious loss of life. They also have alliances with other Nightsister clans in the area, like the Spiderclan. None of the Dathomiri groups can risk the people required to fully root them out. Any attack will weaken their own clans and leave them vulnerable."

"Besides, the Dathomiri clans are too fragmented and isolated as it is. This gorge is just outside of all their territories, there are many other Nightsister clans closer that provide more immediate threats," Sanola said, joining the duo. "Perhaps this is what my aunt had in mind when allying with the Infinity Gate clan. If we finish this deal, we'll finally be able to take on clans such as the Blood Gorge."

"One can wish," Rajade shrugged. "So, what do we have to do now, Jedi Apprentice Ti?"

"You weren't listening to Master Damaya?"

"And deprive you of the opportunity to boss me around?" Rajade said, aghast. "I could never do such a thing. Besides, you're Master Ti's niece, you could use the practice."

Sanola's eyes narrowed and her hands balled into fists before relaxing. From the conflicting emotional outpouring coming from the younger teen, it was clear to Aviana that Sanola was mentally reciting the Jedi Code ad nauseum.

"Jedi Apprentice Lo, Master Damaya assigned the three of us to the second watch alongside Nikti." Sanola said with a fake smile. She gestured to a Zabrak teen helping to set up the camp. "We are to have our evening meal and then retire for the night. They will wake us when it is time."

"As you command, your royal Jedi-ness," Rajade performed another sweeping bow.

Sanola made a gesture, and the sweeping bow turned into a face-plant into the ground. "Until later, Rajade. Aviana"

"You were asking for it," Aviana sighed, helping him back to his feet as Sanola walked off. She led him to a nearby boulder and they both sat atop it.

"Princess Ti is too uptight," Rajade grumbled, spitting out the rocky soil he had inadvertently got into his mouth. "Sure she's Master Ti's niece, but she isn't even a Knight yet. Just a student like one of us."

"I understand her, though," Aviana said softly. "My own father is a leading member of my people. Everyone is looking to me and my brothers and sisters to follow in his footsteps. To be something even greater. When it was discovered I was Force sensitive, my older siblings immediately tried to shift their burdens onto me. To make me the next leader of the Nagai. I came out here, to Ossus, to get away from all that. Sanola doesn't have that escape, the choice to be something other than what everyone thinks she's fated to become since her aunt started the praxeum. Out here, we may be the nobodies. But she'll always be a 'somebody' no matter where on this planet she is."

"Oh," Rajade looked away pensively. "I guess…I guess I'll go apologize to the princess then."

"Don't apologize," Aviana shook her head. "If I understand Dathomiri customs, it'll mean little to her anyways. You're a guy, right? You'll always be lower in her eyes, expected to do dumb things."

"If this were another planet, probably," Rajade corrected, looking pensive. "Heck, if I was from her clan, an apology would mean little. But Broken Columns is unique on Dathomir. Most of the female-led clans are afraid of us because of what we represent; males in power, males who overthrew their female leaders and are prospering. We are an aberration to centuries' old tradition, are seen as equals to women by some of the clans. And have been on the verge of war with so many of the other clans that we've developed a bit of a siege mentality. We've fought so hard to maintain our sense of strength, our honor; to have the other clans know our strength, to respect us. Unless I want Sanola to see me as one of the men of her clan, I need to show just how different I am from them. I am, after all, the only member of my clan at the praxeum that she's met."

"I don't know much about Dathomiri traditions," Aviana began slowly. They pulled out their ration packs and began to eat. "But I understood the bit about strength and honor. My people were kept as slaves for the longest time. Struggled to maintain our sense of identity when surrounded by hostility and those who saw us as little better than beasts of burden. When it came time to prove our worth, we went to war against this galaxy, sought more respect than we could get. In the end, the places we attacked saw us as monsters, and if it were not for the mercy of the Jedi and their allies, we would have been worse off than before. Sometimes…sometimes it is best to not go looking for respect and honor, but to show it instead. You can still apologize, but instead of constantly antagonizing Sanola, you can offer to be her friend. Like I said, the pressure from all the others to be someone great can make things a little lonely."

Rajade looked at Aviana strangely, causing the teen to shift almost in embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep or anything…"

"On Dathomir for two years and you already understand our people better than I do," Rajade said with a disbelieving shake of his head.

Aviana felt heat come to her cheeks again. "My father sends me lessons on politics with his monthly care-packages. I just…pick up a few things now and then?"

"Keep on picking things up," Rajade said fondly. "I can see why Master Ti wanted you on this mission."

"And you?"

"Probably because many of the men are Nightbrothers solely because of the way they would be treated in a standard Dathomiri clan," Rajade said. "I mean, if you keep treating people like second-class citizens, they'll no doubt harbor some resentment, right?"

**I—(V)—I **

It was late into the night, or early the next day depending on one's point of view, when the first sign of trouble appeared. Being the lone male of the four-person watch, Rajade was hyper-vigilant. The last thing he wanted was to let his clan down by allowing something to happen on his watch. He was not only a representative of the Broken Columns clan, but of Dathomiri males as a whole. He had to prove that the males were every bit as strong as their female counterparts, that he wasn't just that lucky guy who managed to get into the Jedi Praxeum; a pretender Jedi.

The other males in the group all belonged to males from clans where the women ruled. They didn't seem to mind their station either, fully embracing their clans' traditions and practices and acting subservient to the females on the team. They had prepared the evening meal, cleaned up without any protest, and some even set up the sleeping bags for the females of the group. But being from Broken Columns, Rajade had no desire to view himself as an inferior, or a servant to anyone. He was a Dathomiri male and he was proud to be one. He wanted to have his people be treated as something other than trophies, to be talked to in a tone other than scornful disdain. True, the Jedi Praxeum muted much of the prejudices and opened many eyes, but Dathomir still had a long way to go until it recognized males as actual people.

And until then, he would just have to keep on proving that males were more than honor-less objects, and show that they were fierce warriors in their own right,

He and Sanola were watching the trail they had come. Aviana and the Zabrak teen Nikti were watching the trail their group would venture down at first sun-up. It had been a quiet watch thus far, with only a few creatures daring to approach their camp.

Despite the relative peace, however, he was on edge. Very slowly, he let his hand drift to his lightsaber. He couldn't see anything, or feel anything, out of the ordinary. But there was an acidic taste on his tongue that he didn't like.

"Rajade?" Sanola murmured, her voice a faint breeze carried away by the cool night wind.

"Guard up," Rajade replied tersely. It was better to be safe and look like a fool, then dead and right.

She must have heard the tone in his voice, because Sanola didn't make a single sound at being ordered to do something by a male. Her hand gripped her Ssurian-tooth lightsaber—a unique construction where the sharp-ended pommel was just as deadly as its liquid yellow blade. He had heard the story of how she had slew the massive predatory lizard during her coming-of-age rite, and how its tooth now formed the basis of her Jedi weapon.

Not that his own lightsaber was any less unique or impressive. It was fashioned from the skull of a kodashi viper, one of the most poisonous creatures on the planet. The skull formed a basket-hilt of sorts into which he stuck his hand. A sickly green blade emerged from the base of the skull—where the spinal column would have been. The blade was longer, but narrower than most lightsaber blades. It made blocking blaster fire a bit of a pain, but it was positively lethal against fellow sword wielders.

He felt Sanola's eyes on him, and he prayed to the Force that he wasn't imagining things. He had only just managed to form a fragile truce with the younger teen, and the last thing he wanted was to have his image drop even lower in her eyes.

The dark clouds above blocked out the moonlight, keeping everything near pitch dark. He reached out with his senses, trying to figure out what had unnerved him so.

Suddenly, in the distance, a pink light flared into existence.

"To arms!" He yelled out, his lightsaber flashing and intercepting a bolt of plasma.

And then more pink lights lit up the night; ten, twenty, thirty. The numbers continued to swell.

"Fall back across the bridge!" Damaya ordered.

A hail of pink plasma rained down all around them as the attackers kept their distance but continued their ceaseless bombardment. One of the teens in the group was unable to move fast enough and was pierced through the back. Another had a bolt of boiling plasma burn through her leg. There were almost forty attackers firing plasma arrow after arrow with Force-enhanced accuracy. If the arrow wasn't on target, it was only to induce the intended target into a certain direction and into another arrow.

Sanola's yellow blade was a constant flurry of motion as she fended off downward volleys and straight-shots like a spinning top.

"Fine time to hit us with projectiles," Rajade swore, his slender blade able to block much less than the blades of his companions around him. One bolt of sizzling plasma burned a hole through his sleeve, another winged the top of his shoulder.

"Go! Get the injured back across the bridge," Sanola barked. "You'll be more of a liability if I have to cover you too."

Though his heart wanted to stay and fight, his mind knew the logic of her words. Yet at the same time, he wouldn't be doing much for the males of Dathomir if he retreated and let the girls fight on his behalf. He saw another of their delegation go down and grimaced.

"They have arrows, Sanola! They can stay out of range and continue to hit us from afar!"

"Like they're doing now! Tell me something I don't know?"

Rajade shut off his lightsaber and used a clan art, the Spell of Shadows, to bind the Force around him in a protective sheath. He would still be detected if a Force user was actively looking for him specifically, but he would otherwise be invisible to their senses. "I'll be back shortly!"

"Are you an idiot?! There's several dozen of them out there, maybe more!"

"And we're down to six capable people. We can't just run full on into Blood Gorge territory in the middle of the night!"

"Fine!" Sanola shut down her lightsaber and leaped out of the way as a hail of pink pummeled the ground she had just been standing on. "I'm going too then. We're the only ones in position to do anything anyways!"

With no time to argue, Rajade cloaked Sanola with the Spell of Shadows and then took off towards the line of pink flares nearly half a kilometer away. They were fleet-footed, running under the pale pink light of the seemingly ceaseless barrage of plasma. Just when they were about to reach their goal, Sanola gasped in pain.

Rajade quickly ground to a halt, catching her as she stumbled forwards. "What's wrong?"

"Master Damaya, she's been hit…several times," Sanola panted, her eyes squeezed shut and her panic rising.

"Sanola, listen. The only way we can help her now is by stopping the attack. Focus on that and that alone," Rajade hissed. They were close enough to the Nightsister ranks that they could almost hear the others gleefully talking about the attack.

Sanola took in a deep breath, panicked green eyes hardening into those of a warrior on a mission. "Let's do this."

Rajade nodded. "Now they outnumber us, but if we spook them, they'll be demoralized and run off."

"You have a plan?"

"Yes, here's what we'll do."

**I—(VI)—I **

Despite the pitch darkness they were in, the energybows of the Nightsisters were every much the beacon the lightsabers of the Jedi had been. The Nightsisters and Nightbrothers were spread out in a single line, alternating who was firing to keep the barrage steady.

"Hey, there are just two of them left!" Laughed one of the Nightsisters, gesturing towards the flare of distant lightsabers. "What do you say we go in there and finish them off personally?"

"We have our order Kadira."

"Oh come on. Hitting them like this is hardly sporting," Kadira whined, standing among a group of five others.

"Then how's this?" Sanola growled from behind the Nightsister. Before the group could respond, Sanola let out a deafening, Force-enhanced shriek, much like the sound made by the Ssurian dragon. It was a haunting sound that rattled bones and caused teeth to gnash together. Normally used by Nightsisters, Kirana Ti had re-appropriated it and taught Sanola a less lethal version. Not that the Nightsisters currently under the attack would have appreciated it in any case.

The five Nightsisters clapped their hands to their ears in reflex only to have their eardrums rupture and their minds shaken by subsonic vibrations. As if they were experiencing repeated concussions, the eyes of all five rolled up into their heads and they fell to the ground, unconscious.

Pink energybows were all swung in Sanola's general direction, a barrage of arrows immediately being fired a split second later. Sanola, however, had leaped into the air and Rajade once again cloaked her with the Force.

On the opposite end of the Nightsister and Nightbrother line, nervous bowmen heard a twig snap and all spun around to see Rajade approach them. He was highlighted by the glowing light of their bows, yet he was unfazed as he stared the four down. Without a word, he held out a hand and used another of his clan's ability, the Spell of Sickness. The spell used the Force to mimic the affects of the kodashi viper venom, causing mental and physical illness and pain to all those involved. His four targets staggered backwards, clutching at their chest, stomachs, or heads in disbelief. One even lost their last meal as they curled up into balls on the ground in obvious agony.

The line of energybows was immediately extinguished, the darkness making it impossible for the Nightbrothers and sisters to see just who was attacking them and causing such distress. Rather than risk facing an unknown force, they melted back into the night, vanishing almost as quickly as their attack had begun. They took their injured with them, leaving no trace that they were even present.

Meeting up again, Sanola and Rajade exchanged victorious high-fives, laughing in relief as they did.

"That worked!" Sanola said brightly.

"Of course it did," Rajade said with mock arrogance.

Sanola rolled her eyes. "I would have just charged their line and beat up as many as I could."

"I'm sure that would have worked if they hadn't outnumbered us several dozen to two."

"Hey, eighteen plus for you, eighteen plus for me."

"We aren't _that_ good…yet," Rajade added with a smirk.

Then, as if remembering the rest of their friends at the same time, the two exchanged grim expressions and put their celebrations on the backburner. Without another word, they raced across the landscape to see if they had stopped the attack in time.

**I—(VII)—I **

The sight that greeted them was one that caused even Sanola to pale. Most of their Rancor mounts had succumbed to the continuous barrage of plasma, while the ground all around was littered with scorch marks. Four of the teens who had traveled out with them were dead; three others were badly wounded, including an unconscious Damaya. The older Jedi had obviously used her body to shield several of the wounded and had paid a heavy price. She had no less than five burns from where the plasma arrows had hit, her armor and skin badly charred.

The few survivors were just as badly shaken as Sanola was, looking around in complete shock.

"You're alive!" Aviana exclaimed, rushing forwards to hug Sanola, and then Rajade, in near desperate embraces.

"We're alive," Rajade confirmed solemnly. "I wish the same can be said for all of us."

"The mission's over then?" Nikti whispered despondently, a bacta patch over her shoulder. "There's no way we'll be able to reach the Infinity Gate now. Especially with Master Damaya in a healing coma."

There was a hushed silence as the surviving teens all looked to one and other for answers. Sanola felt a pit in her chest grow, her stomach clenching painfully. As the sense of dread and sorrow continued to grow among the group's survivors, she felt that she had to do _something. _If she wanted to be a Jedi Knight, this was her moment to prove she was worth that rank. Besides, this was her first _real _mission, there was no way she was going to let it end in disaster.

"No, we continue on," Sanola said aloud, stepping forward and projecting an aura of determination.

"Sanola," Aviana said in protest.

"Our friends did not die for nothing," Sanola said sharply. "They died so that peace with the Infinity Gate clan could be made possible. So that Dathomir can become one step closer to being unified. Nikti, you and Viica take whatever Rancors we have left. You'll use them to take Master Damaya and all our wounded and dead back to the praxeum. Let my aunt know that Aviana, Rajade, and I are continuing with the mission. We'll get that peace she wanted."

"Just the three of us? We're not even Jedi Knights yet!" Aviana didn't relent.

"She's right, Sanola," Rajade agreed. "There are at least three other Nightsister clans between here and our meeting place, as well as a whole host of dangers we know nothing about. How can the three of us accomplish this when this entire group was taken out in a single engagement?"

"We'll do it because we have to," Sanola said. "We back down now, who knows when another Nightsister clan will show interest in an alliance again? We back down know and clans like the Spiderclan and Blood Gorge can continue to operate because the light-side covens are too scattered and disorganized to do anything about it. It's time we step up and show Master Damaya and the others that they were right to place their trust in us, to pin the future of Dathomir, and maybe even the praxeum, on our shoulders. We can talk about doing things all we want, but unless we follow through with action, we'll never be able to stand proud and call ourselves Jedi."

"There's a difference between pride and recklessness," Rajade argued.

"Then what?" Sanola said, eyes flashing in challenge. She looked up from where she had been kneeling by a downed Rancor, slinging a pack of supplies over one shoulder in the process. "We go back, tell Master Ti that the mission was a failure and that peace was impossible. Members of the Infinity Gate clan are waiting for us out there right now! Queen Ros Lai is putting her own head on the chopping block for this. Are we not Jedi? What have we been training all this time for if not to bring peace to our home, to bring balance to the Force?"

Both Rajade and Aviana shifted uncomfortably. The Zabrak apprentice, Viica, slowly nodded as she cradled a broken arm. "She's right. You two. This has to be done. We haven't gotten this far to turn back as failures."

"Fine," Rajade breathed. "Fine, fine, fine! Rot it all! I'm in. Needs to be at least one token male on this team anyways." He kicked a clod of dirt and grabbed another supply kit.

Sanola just nodded once and turned towards the white-skinned Nagai. "Aviana, this isn't your planet, but…"

"I'll go," Aviana exhaled, following the example of her friends and kneeling by another Rancor. "You're right. Viica's right. Even if only one of us makes it back, this has to be done."

"For the record, I'd prefer if all three of us made it back," Rajade commented. "If I go back without you two, the rest of the clans will kill me. If Aviana goes back, what does that say for Dathomiri strength? And if Sanola makes it back, she'll get all the glory and it'll go to her head."

"And if the two of us make it back and you don't?" Sanola raised an eyebrow, gesturing to herself and Aviana.

Rajade tilted his chin back and folded his arms in front of his chest. "That's not going to happen."

"Oh?"

"All the men on Dathomir are looking to me to prove our worth. I'm not about to let them down any time soon."

"Great," Sanola deadpanned. "Your survival is practically guaranteed now."

Through the Force the group could feel the Nightsisters massing for another attack, and the banter ended. Sanola quickly took charge. "Viica, Nikti?"

"We're ready," Nikti said, strapping the last of the wounded onto a surviving Rancor.

"We'll make our Force presences big, you make yours small. We'll try to lead them away from you but you might pick up a tail."

"Rancors are kind of hard to miss," Rajade said seriously.

"We'll be okay," Nikti leaped atop the rancor. "You worry about yourselves."

"May Allya protect you," Viica inclined her head.

Bows of pink flared back into existence in the distance.

"Go!" Sanola hissed. At the same time, she let unleashed a torrent of Force energy, essentially making her a glowing beacon in the dying night.

The Rancors pounded away, and a flurry of pink ignited the sky.

"Time to run," Sanola said grimly.

Aviana and Rajade both let their own Force presences glow brightly, attracting the second wave of plasma arrows. With a single nod shared between the young teens, they sprinted in the opposite direction of the Rancors, feet flying across the stone bridge spanning the chasm before them.

The air smelled of ozone as pink flashes of plasma rained down all around, hissing and whizzing in an endless storm of lethal energy. The Force energy they were exuding making them giant targets that pulled in more arrows like massive black holes.

And still the three ran, calling on the Force and every ounce of strength they had to push on. They ran, and ran, gradually shrinking their Force presences.

Running beyond the range off the arrows.

Outpacing their pursuers.

Shadows chasing shadows.

The night slowly giving way to day.

Rocky soil gave way to steep inclines of coarse gravel, the slopes of mountains rising up all around them.

Yet still they ran, guided by the Force and a small amount of fear as they streaked through uncharted territory. They could feel danger all around them, could feel the Force urging them onwards. And they ran, and ran.

When the sun began its descent, they finally stopped. They were panting, clothes drenched with sweat, muscles protesting any further movement. Reaching out with the Force, they could tell that they had lost their pursuers.

But, as they straightened and glanced about the mountainous terrain they had stumbled into, they now had an entirely different problem to deal with.

The bodies of several Nightsisters and brothers were littered about the mountain pathway. Plasma burns and stab wounds were evident on all of them.

The Force was no longer calling out in warning, but then again the trio of young Jedi could feel something out of place.

And then a bone-chilling yell, not heard in the galaxy for three years, echoed down from the tops of the mountains.

"_Do-ro'ik vong pratte!"_

**I—(VIII)—I **

"At least they aren't Nightsisters," Rajade said through a swollen lip. Blood dripped down from a cut on his head, and bruises covered his body.

"There's that," Aviana agreed sarcastically. She wasn't in any better shape. Both her arms were broken, as was one leg. "At least we can still use the Force to heal."

"So much for our attempt to finish the mission," Sanola sighed, leaning back against the rock wall of their prison and hugging her legs. A nasty welt marred one cheek, and a good-sized lump was forming on the opposite side of her head.

The three of them had been exhausted from the non-stop running and completely unprepared to face Yuuzhan Vong warriors in their prime. Added to the fact that their Force-abilities had no affect on the alien warriors, and the battle had been extremely one-sided and swift. Only Aviana's Nagai nature had prevented her from giving up, resulting in the serious injuries she now had. The one positive side was that her heroics had spurred the other two on, and they had fought well enough to impress the warriors attacking them.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the cave passageway, and the trio straightened as best they could. The membrane door to their cell slid open, and a tall and muscular Yuuzhan Vong warrior surveyed them from the entryway.

"These are the _Jeedai?_" He asked in Basic.

"Yes, Commander. They fought differently than those we normally encounter. We thought it prudent to capture them for interrogation."

"You did well, Takh Lian," the scarred commander acknowledged once. "Which of the three is the leader?"

"I am," Rajade said quickly. He managed to pick himself off the ground and straighten as best as one with several broken ribs could. "Jedi Rajade Lo."

The leader entered the cell and very calmly gripped Rajade by his chin with one large hand. "You are but a mere child. All three of you are. Why would the _Jeedai_ send children into a place as perilous as this?"

"The war is over," Rajade managed. "Has been for three years. A lot has changed since then."

"You lie!" The commander drove his fist into Rajade's stomach, causing the young teen to cough up blood.

"We have no reason to!" Aviana snarled. "The war's over. The Supreme Overlord's dead! Your people have a homeworld. All of that's true!"

"The Supreme Overlord is Yun-Yuuzhan's chosen! To say that he is dead is heresy!" One of the commander's subordinates yelled, storming into the cell.

"What reason do we have to lie?" Sanola said almost emotionlessly as she rested against the prison wall. "You can kill the three of us whenever you want, sacrifice us to your gods. But it still won't change the truth."

"There could be many reasons why you lie," the commander said smoothly. "You are but three children, perhaps your _Jeedai_ Order has been reduced to so few in strength that they must send children out now. Perhaps you seek to demoralize us, to make us think that all is loss so your allies can move in unopposed. My command may not be the largest, but we still have within us the ability to take and tame this planet."

"How long has it been since you've heard from your superiors?" Sanola countered softly, not uncurling from her position against the wall. "When was the last time you had a supply shipment? New orders? Reinforcements?"

"We are a covert operations group," the commander said gruffly. "Lack of contact is to be expected."

"But over three years?" Aviana rebutted, realizing what Sanola was doing. "In all that time, didn't you at least wonder what was happening in the rest of the galaxy?"

"Commander, let me kill these _Jeedai_! They seek to undermine…" The warrior trailed off when the commander held up his hand.

"If…what you say is true, then my men and I have spent the past three years waging a hit-and-run war on this planet's population for nothing. If what you say is true, then I will have lost thirty of my people for no reason other than ignorance."

"How long have you been on this planet?" Sanola asked gently, looking up at the warrior for the first time.

The commander looked unnerved at her stare, but held her inquisitive gaze. "We were on your planet for all of one year when the last message we received referred to a major battle at a place called Ebaq Nine. Scattered messages followed for some time afterwards. Three years ago, however, all messages ceased."

"You've been on Dathomir for almost seven years?" Sanola's eyes grew wide.

"We have," the commander nodded once. "I am Commander Hural Ruuq. When I came to this planet, I had five hundred warriors and thirty shapers at my command."

"And now?" Sanola asked.

"Commander, surely you are not listening to…"

"Silence," Hural barked. "They will die anyways, so informing them will harm no one."

"As you command."

"How many left?" Sanola repeated softly.

"A hundred and thirteen warriors, eight shapers," Hural said without a hint of emotion.

"I'm sorry you lost so many of your family," Sanola bowed her head. Her studies on the Yuuzhan Vong War as part of her battlefield tactic's lessons had enabled her to learn about the unique societal structures of the Yuuzhan Vong race. "Seven years of warring, after a life time of it…it must have been hard on you all."

"You said that my people have a home now? Yuuzhan'tar?" The commander said, without acknowledging her words.

"They do," Aviana nodded, looking up from where she had been caring for Rajade. "A planet with its own consciousness, where everything growing is natural, full of life. All the Domains are there."

"The war is over," Sanola reinforced gently.

The commander blinked slowly, his gaze passing over the three Jedi almost as if in disbelief.

"Commander!" A voice down the passageway called out excitedly. "Warmaster Nas Choka contacts us!"

"Nas Choka?" Hural blinked. He glanced at the Jedi again. "The times have changed indeed. Bring the three of them with us. If they are lying, they will be excellent presents to present to the new Warmaster."

Sanola moved forward to help support both her friends, and the three used the Force to help with their injuries and pain.

Even if they couldn't read the Yuuzhan Vong in the Force, the trepidation on the faces of the war-weary warriors was clear.

They walked in silence through the caverns created by the warriors. The young Jedi could see small plots of land devoted to growing crops, and other organic creatures the Yuuzhan Vong group used to make their shelter self-sufficient. Another section of cave had been converted to a cemetery, with the belongings of the deceased laid out on top of mounds of earth in ceremonial fashion. Living quarters, hewn from the stone. A dining commons. What looked like a trophy room sat adjacent to an armory. The Yuuzhan Vong had done the best with what they had, eking out a living on a hostile world, believing that one day the warring would end and they would see the peace they were fighting for.

"Children?" Aviana said in surprise, seeing several Yuuzhan Vong toddlers being taught the language. "I thought you were a military force."

"We have had to institute breeding cycles to replenish our numbers," Hural said stiffly. "These rocky walls are all they know at the moment, but they will grow to be strong warriors of the Yun'o." He glanced at a disheveled looking Yuuzhan Vong off to the side. "Shamed! Fetch the healing supplies. We can't have these _Jeedai_ die until we've handed him over to the Warmaster."

The Shamed One fearfully bowed his head and scampered off.

The impromptu tour of the base ended in a central chamber, where an aging villip choir chirped feebly in the dying afternoon sunlight.

"Dread One, I present to you Commander Hural Ruuq," a warrior announced.

"You honor me, Warmaster," Hural bent down to one knee. "The war has been hard, but we fight on. As proof of our victories, I present to you these three _Jeedai_. We also have in our position three dozen lightsabers from _Jeedai_ my men and I have slain during our time here. They are yours to give to Yun-Yammka."

"_Hural Ruuq, you and your men have served the gods well. You are the epitome of what it means to be Yuuzhan Vong, what it means to be warriors." _Nas Choka's villip likeness said firmly.

"I am humbled, Warmaster."

"_Time has passed, however, and the war is over. The Supreme Overlord lies dead at the hands of the Jeedai, as does Onimi and my predecessor Tsavong Lah. We, however, still were victorious. We started this war to find our home, and a home we have indeed found. The planet the Yuuzhan Vong now live on is the very seed of the original Yuuzhan'tar. There we have prospered, grown. You have done the name of Yuuzhan Vong proud, but now it is time to lay down your amphistaffs and coufee and join the rest of your brothers and sisters on the planet Zonama Sekot."_

"Then…the Jedi spoke the truth…" Hural was completely dumbstruck, as were the other warriors in the room. "The war was over…these past few years we have been fighting for nothing…throwing away our lives for a cause that no longer exists."

"No," Sanola corrected softly. "That cause lived on in your hearts. You fought for a dream, a day when fighting would no longer be necessary. Your fight was just a bit harder, just a bit longer than most. You have a home now, though."

"Seven years," Hural said faintly, glancing about the cavern. "We have been here seven years. Fighting to bring this planet to the Yuuzhan Vong Empire. Even as our numbers dwindled, we never lost hope. We would fight to the end if we had to. For the gods, for the day all Yuuzhan Vong would have a home. And now…now its over…"

An expression of complete loss came over Hural's face as he disappeared into his thoughts. Nas Choka spoke again, his voice gentle. "_A ship will arrive in two day's time to bring you and your people to Yuuzhan'tar should you desire it."_

"If not, you are more than welcome to stay on this planet," Sanola spoke up, receiving raised eyebrows from her companions. "The praxeum we are from will be happy to establish trading relations with you, medical and food supplies. You've fought for so long for a home, shed blood on this planet. If you want, you can stay."

Hural stared at the young almost fourteen year-old with gratefulness. "Your offer is most welcome, _Jeedai."_

"It's Sanola, Sanola Ti," the Dathomiri teen replied.

Seemingly collecting himself, Hural looked back to the villip choir. "Warmaster, there is no doubt some among my command who will take you up on your offer."

"_You are not among them?"_

"This is the planet I buried my five children, my brother, my uncle, my crèchemates," Hural said with a faint smile. "This is the planet I wish to be buried on when the gods come to take me. I think…I think I found my home a long time ago and have only now just begun to realize it. Yun-Harla can be cruel indeed."

"_And she can also be merciful. Please see to the health of the Jeedai in your custody. Assist them with whatever mission they have. Knowing Jeedai, it is probably some ridiculously impossible feat with not enough supplies or people. I think they trust in their 'Force' a bit more often than is healthy for them."_

Eyeing the young Jedi and their battered and exhausted states, Hural nodded. "You are wise indeed, Warmaster. I will inform the rest of my command and we will await the arrival of your ship."

"_There is one other thing," _Nas Choka appeared to glance at someone outside of the range of the villip. _"As the Supreme Leader was so kind to remind me just now, the Shamed caste has been abolished. They are now simply Yuuzhan Vong. If there are any Shamed Ones left under your command, you are to treat them with the same respect you wish shown to yourself."_

"The times must really have changed," Hural remarked sarcastically. But after being told that the war had ended and that the galaxy as he knew it was changed forever, he wasn't really surprised. "It shall be as you say. The Shamed will no doubt leave with you if their lives have been improved that much."

"_The change is still ongoing, commander. Many of us still aren't used to treating them as equals."_

"That is the first thing you've said that is not hard to believe, Warmaster."

"_We will be bringing experts to help you and the rest of your people adjust to a life without war. Being who they are, the Jeedai will probably be more than happy to offer assistance as well."_

"It will be…strange, to say the least. Working with them."

"_We'll send word once we take orbit. Until then, may the gods watch over you and your men."_

**I—(IX)—I **

Being escorted by two squads of Yuuzhan Vong commandos—who were now experts on Dathomiri wildlife due to their prolonged stay on the planet—and a _rakamat_, and a shaped Dathomiri Rancor, meant that the second half of Sanola, Rajade, and Aviana's trip went a lot smoother than the first. After spending some time resting up and healing, the trio of young Jedi departed the Yuuzhan Vong base shortly after mid-day. They had since left the mountainous terrain and were now nearing a seemingly endless sea of sand. Plant-life became sparse, as did most wildlife.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch," Rajade grimaced. He had tried to stretch out his arms, but only succeeded in aggravating his not-entirely-healed ribs.

"You're the leader, really?" Sanola raised an eyebrow.

"Would you rather you were the one they punched in a fit of disbelieving anger?" Rajade retorted.

"You were protecting me?"

"Is that a problem?"

Sanola's jaw worked several times, before the young teen promptly looked away.

"My turn for the questions. Why'd you offer the Vong a place on the planet?"

"It's big enough for all of us," Sanola said simply. "Besides, I just thought of what my aunt was doing and it seemed to fit. You know, 'the reaching out to former enemies' thing. The planet's a big place, the galaxy's even bigger, I think we can use all the friends we can get."

"Pretty smart thinking," Rajade tilted his head respectfully.

"The benefits are already evident," Aviana gestured to their escort. "Glad I decided to follow you out here."

Sanola tried to hide her blush. "Thanks you two."

"Look, there!" Aviana suddenly shouted, pointing to a group of people in the distance.

"Think that's the Nightsisters we're supposed to meet?" Sanola asked.

"If not, they'll probably start shooting at us any time now," Rajade answered deadpan. "Let's keep heading towards them to find out."

No rain of pink plasma occurred, the small group they were meeting letting the others approach without incident. The Nightsister group was gathered around a singular banner depicting a blue sphere contained within a transparent pyramid. They were a mixed group, with humans, Zabrak, and mixes of the two, all waiting with hands cautiously on their weapons.

"Hold there," A mahogany-haired young teen, who appeared to be a Zabrak-human hybrid, called out. Several dozen meters separated the two sides, the sun setting in the distance between the two of them.

"We're Jedi representing the Jedi Praxeum on Ossus," Sanola announced. "We seek an audience with Night Queen Ros Lai."

"Not the most traditional of escorts," the Nightbrother remarked, eyes darting towards the Yuuzhan Vong.

"We Jedi just excel at making friends," Sanola said sarcastically.

"And enemies," Rajade coughed.

"We prefer friends," Aviana added quickly.

The Nightbrother raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I am Third Blade of the Infinity Gate Clan, Quin Lai. Myself, and my brothers and sisters with me, will take the three of you the rest of the way to our clan. I am afraid your current escort will have to stay behind."

"That is satisfactory," Sanola assented.

"Come then," Quin gestured. "My grandmother is eager to meet you all."

"Grandmother?"

"Queen Ros Lai is my grandmother," Quin smiled faintly, an expression that looked out of place on his worn, yet young face. He appeared to be closer to Rajade's age, and also seemed to be the leader of the group despite Dathomiri matriarchal practices. His connection to the Night Queen, in Sanola's mind, probably overrode traditional cultural practices. "I only just became a Blade of my clan. My first assignment was to escort your group to our home."

"Any trouble?" Sanola cocked her head. Quin's group appeared to struggle just to stay standing, with bandages likewise covering a myriad of wounds.

"Nothing we couldn't handle. You?"

"The same," Sanola replied evenly. They both shared a look, making it clear that neither believed the other in the slightest. Sanola's group had ragged clothing, were covered in bandages, and definitely looked a little worse-for-wear. "It is just a simple diplomatic trip after all."

"And this is a simple escort job."

The sound of Rajade clearing his throat shook the two teens from their banter. Rajade was subtly gesturing to the other Nightsisters and brothers, who didn't appear at all pleased with their young leader.

"Right," Sanola felt her face heat up. "The sooner we have a treaty signed, the quicker things can start to improve, for both our peoples and Dathomir."

**I—(Part One End)—I**

**A\N: **Early update since I'll be busy next week...Next part we delve a bit more into the Night side of Dathomir =p. Two chapters from now we go to Yavin 8... I've finished writing this interlude so I'll be working on the sequel now, still on schedule to begin posting in November. Thanks for all your support, and hope you've enjoyed this chapter too. 'Til next month!

-An Origami Fish


	4. Chapter 4

Facing the Future: Part Two

**I—(I)—I **

From all the stories Sanola had heard about the Nightclans, one would think that she'd be ever vigilant, frightened even. Stories of blood sacrifices, of cannibalism, of the horrible and twisted deeds the Nightclans used the Force for were the stuff that made even the most stoic of Dathomiri warriors blanch. There was also the little matter of the war between the two sides of Dathomir for longer than anyone could ever remember. A non-stop conflict where the 'light' allied Dathomiri clans tried their best to hunt the Nightclans into extinction. Ever since the schism had occurred several hundred years earlier, the Dathomiri Clans and the 'dark' Nightclans had been in conflict; ideologically, spiritually, emotionally, physically, and all manner of ways a society can be different.

Yet, for all their differences, they were also children of Dathomir. For all the stories of bloodlust and forbidden practices, these Nightclans were still clans. Each Nightsister and brother had a family, friends, traditions which they held most sacred. To them, they were the victims in the war, persecuted for daring to think outside of the guidelines set forth by Allya all those centuries ago. They were forced to make their homes in inhospitable terrain, forced to live in fear, in anger and hatred. They did what any starving and injured animal would do to survive, living on in spite of everything.

Sanola was seeing all of this now with wide eyes, unable to believe how alike these Infinity Gate clanspeople were so like her own Singing Mountain.

"Don't look so surprised," Quin Lai, the young part-Zabrak leader of the Nightclan expedition smirked, sitting down next to her with two bowls of food in his hands. Before them was a crackling Force-started bonfire, which supplied warmth for the party out in the rapidly cooling sand dunes. "It's not like we'll grow fangs and start preaching about how superior we are, how close-minded and feeble you are."

"Right, I'll just take your word for it," Sanola said sardonically. She accepted the bowl of food and examined it with a suspicious eye. "Poisoned I expect?"

"Of course," Quin said. "But not on purpose. Darlshay over there cooked it and she's a terrible cook."

Sanola blew on the wooden spoon to chill a piece of meat, and then experimentally took a nibble. "What are you talking about, this is amazing! What is it?"

"Cave spider meat," Quin deadpanned. "Marinated in Rancor drool and cooked in whuffa worm fat."

Sanola's second spoonfull paused half-way to her mouth. "Oh." She slowly lowered the spoon, scowling as Quin had the nerve to chuckle. "Laugh it up, Nightbrother."

"Oh, I intend to," Quin retorted, still chuckling. "It looks like the others just told your friends what the food was too."

Rajade looked to be a shade similar to Sanola, a shade just before green. But Aviana, who wasn't as familiar with the local fauna, blinked at the stew-like meal and continued eating with a shrug.

"Now _that_ girl is either crazy or really likes spider meat," Quin said, still shaking his head in amusement. "Off-worlder?"

"Uh-huh," Sanola set the bowl aside and pulled out a ration pack from her supplies. "She came to Dathomir to learn the Jedi Way."

"And she cares enough about this planet to participate in this crazy scheme of my grandmother's?"

"You don't agree with your queen?"

"It's not that," Quin said quickly. He glanced towards the sparkling night sky in thought. The desert was eerily quiet save for the crackling flames and the faint conversations the others were having. "It's just, if we do this, the other Nightclans will see our clan as being traitors. We'll be made targets to be made an example out of. And since we're out here all on our own, we can't very well count on our new allies for help, can we? The one thing that holds all Nightclans together, that helps us get through the times we've been through, is the knowledge that all of us were in opposition to Allya's teachings; are in opposition to the tribes who exiled us in the first place. Breaking with centuries' old tradition, that is something almost unfathomable."

"Won't the success of a treaty between your tribe and the praxeum inspire others to trust us as well?"

"Eventually, maybe," Quin shrugged, leaning back on his elbows. He made a half gesture to the others in the camp. "You see the seven people I have with me now? This group was three times larger when I started out. Multiple Nightclans opposed to the treaty attacked us non-stop all the way to the meeting point. Those fourteen that died made up nearly half of my clan's total available fighting force. My grandmother is risking much, perhaps even the dissolution of our clan, if this goes wrong. And she does so without the rest of her clan's consent. Being the queen and matriarch means her word is final, and she's still powerful enough that no one in our clan dares challenge her out in the open. My own parents disagree with her. They think the status quo is good enough. I think I got this position on the mission just because my grandmother wanted to spite my parents. I know I have my name because of her. I'm named after some Jedi, ironically enough. In any case, when it comes to tradition, my grandmother will be the first to walk the fine line between disobeying Allya's teachings and pure heresy."

"I've heard stories of Nightbrother and sister traditions," Sanola said carefully. "Dark ones."

"Of course they'd be dark," Quin snorted. "I doubt there's a single good thing you people say about us. Any fun stories about us sacrificing children? Eating our dead? Corrupting ourselves with dark powers?"

"All of the above."

Quin exhaled, letting his head fall back to look up at the starry sky. "And they'd be true of course. Many of the clans practice some form of those three to get by, including my own. Some even enjoy them."

"What?!"

"Look around you, Daysister. This is a desert of the worst kind. The only animals that live out here are giant whuffa worms, rats, and desert spiders. No plants, no other wild game. How big a society do you think a place like this can support? We _have_ _to_ control our population or our entire clan suffers. Families with more than three children must pit the children against one and other until only the strongest are left. Those who can no longer contribute to our society, the old and the weak, are reduced to mindless beasts so they won't become a drain on our resources. The bodies of the Nightbrothers and sisters who die in combat are brought back and divided up among their families because we need that additional food source to survive. Some of us survive off of hatred and a desire for revenge alone, using the Force to fuel them when food becomes scarce. You Dayclans live a life of luxury, of peace, only because you cast us Nightclans out into the void of Dathomir. We sacrifice lives hunting whuffa worms so we can trade their armored plates for food."

Sanola swallowed at the bitterness in his voice. It was one thing to be raised believing a set value, growing up to believe that the Nightclans were fierce and loathsome. It was another thing entirely to actually meet members of a Nightclan and hear things from their perspective. "I…I didn't know."

"Of course not," Quin muttered. He didn't seem at all angry with her. It was as if he was just stating facts, as if he had expected her reaction. "Is it any wonder you get clans of people driven insane by what they've had to do to survive? The Spiderclan was driven to seek out the spiders after its first members were hunted down and chased into those caves by the Singing Mountain Dayclan. They were scared, wanted to do anything they could to survive, so they began using heretical abilities to tame the spiders in whose caves they shared. The Blood Gorge clan, full of men from the different Dayclans who were abused and treated as second-class citizens, is a byproduct of your peoples' arrogance and spitefulness. I don't excuse what they do, I personally see their practices as unforgivable, but they too were borne out of the hatred and malice created by Dayclans. I can go on about all the other Nightclans and their origins, they're the stuff my childhood bedtime stories are drawn from, are what all Nightchildren are told so that we would never forget the injustices committed against our peoples. In some ways, I agree with my parents, that this treaty we're supposed to be negotiating is foolish and risky. We've already lost several key trading partners from it. But if we don't at least try to change something, then generations will go by on both sides, each believing the stories told by those before them, and the wars between our peoples will continue."

"Agreed," Sanola whispered, her head bowed. "And for what it's worth I'm sorry your people have had to suffer so much."

"The blame can be placed on both sides. And apologies are nothing but words," Quin shrugged. "Only time will tell if this treaty our leaders have thought up of will be worth the blood that has already been spilt. And the blood that will undoubtedly be spilt later on."

**I—(II)—I **

The trek through the desert was an eye-opening one for Sanola. She was from the Singing Mountain, an almost magical place filled with plant-life, a winding creek that ran down from the snowy peaks, and a wide diversity of lifeforms. It was a warm place, an inviting place where the sun seemed to shine on it just right every afternoon. Her home. Even the Jedi Praxeum had its own life about it, an invigorating atmosphere that made one strive to do their best. Wherever one went, they would find themselves among like-minded people, all doing their best to make both Dathomir and the galaxy as a whole a better place.

But the desert they were trekking through had none of those redeemable qualities. It was a dead place; the air full of misery, despair, of long-held grudges. More than once they passed by a desiccated corpse—a cast-out member of the Infinity Gate clan according to Quin—body withered away by the ever shifting sands. The sky was dark and gray, seemingly teasing the ground by withhold rain it desperately needed. 'It rarely rained here,' Quin had explained. 'And when it does, it floods so greatly that lives are often lost.'

'Why don't you move?' Sanola remembered herself asking.

'It's home. As harsh as this desert is, we've made our little corner in it. Only the strongest survive out here, only those most fit for living.'

'There has to be more than that, though. Your people are suffering so much, why not move to a place with arable land? A place with clean water?'

'You mean like the places your Dayclans occupy? The moment one of our clans tries to settle in such a place, we come under constant attack by your clans; who fear us gaining a foothold in your lands. Other places are dominated by Rancor and worse. Of the Nightclans I know of, only two are located in places suitable for farming. Those two also have to ward off continuous attacks from four different Dayclans who've spent the last century trying to dislodge them from their homes. Besides, when the previous Queen of our tribe, my grandmother's mother, led our people to the Infinity Gate in search of a power to bring our people out of misery, our old homes were razed to the ground by the Dayclans in our absence. We had nowhere to return to.'

There was a lot to think about for the young teenage girl, the complicated diplomatic solution made all the more real as she begun to see the Quin and his clansmen and women as actual living people instead of those monsters in the night. A sidelong glance at her two friends revealed two different reactions.

Rajade too appeared contemplative, having struck up a talking-relationship with two other Nightbrothers. As a male Dathomiri, from a male-dominant clan living outside of Allya's 'female-first' practices, he had much more in common with the Nightclans than the light-side allied Dathomiri clans. On one hand, he was loyal to the Jedi Praxeum, his clan's honor, and all that was good. On the other, however, due to his heritage, he was often treated as an outsider, an oddity, by the girls from the other clans. Sanola had accepted him because he was a good fighter and reliable when needed, even if he was a pain in the neck at times. Yet, as she got to know of Quin's people more, it was clear that Rajade would probably feel more at home with them instead of with the praxeum. She wondered what Rajade was thinking of, if he had come to the same conclusions too. The older Dathomiri teen sensed her gaze, but for once didn't respond with a cocky quirk of an eyebrow or an infuriating smirk. Instead, he seemed to smile a sad smile, tilting his head slightly as if understanding _her_ thoughts.

Flushing, Sanola refocused her attention on her other friend. Aviana didn't seem too particularly perplexed by the situation. Being an off-worlder, the Nagai teen hadn't been brought up with the stories of the Nightsisters, or the evil atrocities that were supposedly committed because they strayed from Allya's path. Instead, she was taking everything in for the first time. The Nightclans were a new experience for her, their views were just as alien to her as the ideas taught on Ossus and on Dathomir. Being Nagai, not from the galaxy, meant that she could quite literally remove herself from the situation and examine things with a neutral eye.

"What are your thoughts?" Sanola asked, moving up to the pale-skinned teen.

"About the Nightclans?"

"In general," Sanola shrugged.

"Their story about how the Dathomiri persecuted them almost reminds me of what happened to my people with the Tofs," Aviana replied after a measured pause. "I think I told you before, right? Our people were hunted down, used for slave labor, forced to eke out livings at the bottoms of the darkest pits to survive. For centuries we suffered. And then my father helped to band our people together and we rose up. We came to this galaxy, started a war, came away with allies, and are now inflicting our own brand of genocide on the Tofs. We're honor bound to kill one the moment we see them, revenge for the centuries of pain their kind inflicted on us. Rage, revenge, they can be very powerful motivators, taking away all sense and reason. I think…I think that if this treaty falls apart, the light-side clans are in real danger of eventually suffering the same fates as the Tofs."

"You think my clan and the others will lose?" It wasn't said accusingly. Sanola appreciated Aviana's logical and tactical view of things. Aviana's unique ability in the Force was that she could always separate her feelings and biases when a tactical appraisal was needed. If her own side was going to lose, she'd be honest about it, able to actually see just how and when they'd fall. It was a variation of predicting the future, being able to see the chain of events before they unfolded. But it also meant that no one wanted to play dejarik with her.

"The Nightclans are divided right now, spending more time hiding, trying to survive. Imagine if one charismatic leader stepped forward, promising them a reversal in roles; they on top of the Dathomiri clans. Imagine Spiderclan, Blood Gorge, and all the others united under a single banner, their rage and desire for revenge focused on a single Dathomiri clan. Your people are as divided as the Nightclans are, but with one big difference; the light-side clans have no real motivation to go to war, to band together and put aside your differences. The Nightclans do. All it takes is for them to come together and topple the most powerful light-side clans with a full attack, and the rest of the Dathomiri won't stand a chance. If all the Nightclans attack Singing Mountain at once, it'll fall before any help can be sent. And then all the minor clans Singing Mountain supports will fall. They will all be hunted down, chased, so that in the end, the only safe place to be will be the shadows, the caves, the deserts. The Nightclans will be like a plague spreading across Dathomir, unchecked unless the Jedi or Galactic Alliance send help. Even then, the war that will be fought will be bloody, the lives lost too numerous to count. In the end, Dathomir will wind up like the galaxy today, shattered and barren."

Sanola was stunned into silence. Aviana's words played out in her own mind. She could _see_ Singing Mountain aflame, watch helplessly as her people were slaughtered by an unstoppable tide of darkness. Could imagine running from cave to cave, fearing for her life, wondering where her next meal would come from. It was a bleak future that had her shiver involuntarily, had her mentally reach out to her family just to reassure herself that they were still among the living.

Aviana shrugged sheepishly. "At least that's what I'm getting. This treaty hasn't failed yet, and there hasn't been anyone on the Nightclans' side of things to step up and take charge. Both sides are risking a lot for the treaty, but the alternative could be much, much worse."

"Thanks a lot," Sanola said weakly.

"We're here!" Quin announced, his voice disappearing in the desert wind.

Sanola and Aviana turned in his direction.

Rising out from the shifting gray sand like tomb markers, beneath an equally gray sky crackling with yellow ionized bolts of energy, was a vast array of towering stone pyramids. Where the stone and materials required to build them came from was a mystery. Many of the pyramids were in a state of disrepair, crumbling slowly as the desert reclaimed them for its own. Sand continued to whip about in small swirls all around, and Sanola could see several whuffa worms slink through several more distant pyramids. There was an overall feeling of coldness, of despair and loneliness to the ruins, even more so than the desert it existed in.

It took a moment, but then Sanola realized another reason why Quin's clan hadn't left the area. Somewhere in those temples was a nexus of Force energy. It was corrupted, sickly in feeling, but the power it had was undoubtedly there. Perhaps Quin's grandmother had decided to stay in order to safeguard the very obvious fount of power hidden beneath the pyramids of stone. The sheer strength and energy the nexus produced would have spelled disaster in the wrong hands.

"Your people built the pyramids?" Sanola asked, sliding up to Quin. She didn't mention the nexus of energy she felt. If he wasn't going to say anything, neither was she.

"No, they were here before us Dathomiri," Quin shook his head. "They're merely our home now. Inscriptions inside say that the place was once a source of great power. All that is left is crumbling rock. Let's go, I can tell that my grandmother is eager to meet you and your friends."

**I—(III)—I **

Trapped within the roughly hewn gray stone walls were the forlorn remnants of a once great people. At some point in time, the pyramids were called 'Star Temples', capable of transporting people across the stars with effortless ease. The inscriptions in the temple walls told of a vast empire, colonizing many planets and containing many wonders. But like all powers, the creators of the Star Temples eventually fell, leaving only empty ruins in their wake.

Sanola, Aviana, and Rajade passed through the hallways with curious eyes as they followed Quin and several Nightsisters towards a main chamber. It was nothing like the hallways of the praxeum, and the ravages of dark side energies could be seen in the face of everyone they passed. Yellow eyes stared out from the shadows, lips as blue as ice twisted up into sneers. It was almost as if everyone they passed was a step away from becoming feral, from becoming little more than the mindless whuffa worms that roamed the collapsed portions of the ruins.

"Better to go insane, than suffer on a daily basis," Quin said in a low voice, inclining his head at the three light-siders. He glanced back at those lurking about in the shadows and crannies of the temple. "Then again, some of those who suffer end up going insane anyways."

"Who are they?" Rajade gestured. "Are they part of your clan?"

"Some are the weaker sibling of a family, mind broken, spirit destroyed," Quin answered without emotion. "They were spared only to be used as hard labor, hunting animals, their life forces continuously drawn upon until there is nothing of them left. They survive solely on the Force. We have neither the resources nor ability to care for them."

"How cruel," Aviana whispered, her voice subdued. She hugged herself with one arm, turning away from the yellow-eyed gaze of one of the wretched creatures.

"It's survival," Quin replied tersely. "Both my older brother and sister are among these weaklings in some part of this temple. They didn't have the strength or cunning it took to best me. Now, I take what little they have in order to survive out here in the desert, abandoned by the rest of Dathomir."

Quin's eyes flashed yellow for the briefest of seconds, as if daring them to challenge his clan's practices.

"When we make the alliance, you won't have to do this anymore," Sanola said soothingly. "We'll send you the supplies you need to care for all of these people. To heal those broken. So you can be a family again."

"Some are better off dead," Quin looked away. "We're nearing the central chamber. My grandmother is waiting with the rest of the clan counsel. Speak your piece and we'll go from there. Just don't make any promises your people don't intend to keep."

There were no grand doors to open, no carpeted walkway or room full of extravagance to mark the main chamber. There were no burning braziers, ancient tapestries, trophies mounted on the wall, or luxurious chairs and tables. The main chamber was little more than a stone pit, with rugged benches carved out in a semi-circle surrounding a central dais. The room was lit by small balls of glowing pink and green plasma, the walls bare and lined with cracks.

Between Sanola and a trio of older women irradiating power and darkness, was a deep fire-pit full of green, crackling flame; the visible Force energy of the nexus.

"Welcome, young Jedi. Are the accommodations not to your liking?" The silver-haired Zabrak on the left cackled. The dancing green flames cast her face in eerie shdows."We can get you blankets and some warm soup if you desire."

"Only three of you? And mere children nonetheless," A black-skinned human on the right raised an eyebrow. "And here I was expecting the Jedi to send their best and brightest."

The middle figure, red hair only just interspersed with hints of silver, held out hands to either side. The flames in front of them leaped up in a silent blaze for a mere second, and the two others quieted. The flames receded, and a stone platform was levitated over the pit, closing it off.

Taking their cue, Rajade, Aviana, and Sanola all bowed politely, before Sanola took a step forward. "I am Sanola Ti, of the Singing Mountain clan, Jedi of the Dathomiri Praxeum. I come with greetings from my people. We regret that more of us couldn't be here, but the journey was perilous and we sent the wounded back."

"Jedi Ti," the middle Nightsister crooned. "You would be related to the Master Jedi I spoke with?"

"My aunt…Night Queen Ros Lai," Sanola said, guessing from the way the other two had deferred that the red-haired old woman was the leader. "We desire to forge an alliance between our two peoples, with hopes that it will be the first of many steps to unite Dathomir."

Ros' face remained passive, betraying none of her thoughts or emotions. "And tell me, young Jedi. What does your people offer that is worth the lives of my entire clan?"

"The Dathomiri clans you refer to as Dayclans would come to your aid should you be attacked, will supply you food, medical, and technological supplies," Sanola fished a datapad out of her tunic. "All we ask in exchange is your friendship. My aunt believes that Dathomir has been divided for too long, that old grudges and centuries of tradition need to be abandoned."

"And what do you believe?" Ros asked smoothly, floating the datapad over to herself.

"I…from a certain point of view, she makes sense," Sanola said hesitantly. "Why waste lives, resources, fighting amongst each other, especially over a matter hundreds of years old, when we can be allies and be stronger for it. It is just hard for me, for many of us, to get over beliefs that have been taught to us since we were old enough to understand them."

"Indeed," the Nightsister Queen said evenly. "You say that the Dayclans will assist our people should we need them. I can think of no better time than now."

"Night Queen?"

"Word of this possible alliance has spread to several rival Nightsister clans, all of whom have banded together to wage war on us. As I have lost a sizable portion of my own warriors to secure your passage here, my clan is currently in the weaker position. Those arrayed against us believe us to be alone and isolated. They will not be prepared if the Jedi were to lend their forces to augment my own."

"Do you have other Nightclan allies of your own? Quin told me that you had trading relationships with several."

Ros nodded once. "I do, but they are smaller clans. They require their own warriors to safeguard their own homes. With the passing of Clan Mother Gethzerion nearly twenty years ago, many of the Nightclans have fallen under the sway of a Nightsister of some infamy, a follower of the exiled Kyrisa. Four of such clans now are arrayed against us."

Sanola's eyes grew round. The name Kyrisa was one all Dathomiri knew. A famed Nightsister who dared to challenge her Clan Mother for rights to leadership. Kyrisa had lost the battle, but was too dangerous, had too many followers within her clan, to be allowed to stay on the planet. The Nightsister had been exiled and disappeared on the icy world of Hoth. Even then, the name Kyrisa remained an example to the Nightclans; someone who dared to challenge the status quo, to dream of more than what they had. At once, Aviana's prediction reentered Sanola's mind, and the young Jedi stiffened.

"We'll help, Night Queen."

"Then, when our enemies have been vanquished, you may consider us the first Nightclan to truly ally with a Dayclan since the fracturing of Dathomir. When the others see the benefits, we will not be the last."

**I—(IV)—I **

"Soon. Soon you guys can get out of here."

Sanola stopped at Quin's voice. With the Dathomiri reinforcements still a day out, she had been exploring the many passageways of the Star Temple, trying to get a better understanding of her new allies. The ionized air above the desert made most mechanical forms of transportation impossible, but the Yuuzhan Vong commander Hural Ruuq and Warmaster Nas Choka had offered their own organic transports. The only delay was the preparation of a fighting force capable of withstanding a blood-thirsty Nightsister attack.

"You really are fools, aren't you?" Quin's voice wavered, as if he was fighting back tears. "The both of you were better than me be far. I was the youngest, the weakest, my health poor for most my childhood! You didn't have to give up your places in the clan so I could live. You didn't have to sacrifice your minds like this. I should be angry at the Dayclans, angry at Sanola and those others she brought with her. Their ancestors were the ones that exiled us, reduced us to this. We could so easily make good with the rest of the Nightclans if we turn against them. Slaughter the reinforcements they've sent to help. We'd take out their best warriors, reinforce our superiority over the other Nightclans. It'd be so easy…but things wouldn't change in the slightest if we do it. The two of you will still be like this, wasting away as you give me your strength, as you destroy your souls so I can have a place in the clan. I'm doing the right thing, right? This isn't weakness, wanting to ally with the Dayclans so I can have the two of you back again? So just hang in there, okay. Just a few more days. Please…"

Sanola hesitantly stepped out around the corner. Quin was kneeling before two dirty and disheveled figures looking much older than he was. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, his head bowed. The two disheveled figures were half-hidden in the shadows of one of the many crevices that filled the crumbling temple, like worms emerging out from a crack. Their eyes were red and yellow, hair long and unkempt, drool dripping carelessly down the corners of their mouths. They were alive, but only in a biological sense. Using the Force, she could tell that there was barely anything left of the people they had once been. These two were even worse off than the others she had seen earlier.

Sanola couldn't help but gasp at the sight, a hand immediately flying up to cover her mouth. Quin looked up almost blearily, swaying unsteadily as he pushed himself to his feet. With an almost deranged laugh, he gestured to the two pitiful figures beside him. "Jedi Sanola Ti, of the Singing Mountain clan. Meet my big brother and sister. Foolish idiots who sacrificed themselves so that _me_, a sickly weak mixed-breed could live on. I told you that families of my clan can't grow too big? Well my parents were greedy. My brother was born, he was powerful. My sister after, she was even stronger. Wanting an offspring that would help them overthrow grandmother, they had me. Had me during one of the worst food shortages our clan ever had. Rather than let me die though, Rena and Jukati both poured their essences into me, voluntarily banishing themselves so that I could have their share of the rations, of the attention and power. Idiots the both of them!"

"They loved you," Sanola whispered softly.

"Love?" Quin said incredulously. "Look around you _Jedi_. Out here, there is no place for love. For compassion. Love and compassion gets you reduced to this!" He shoved his older brother back into the shadows with a powerful Force push. "Love and compassion won't save you when a rival Nightclan comes to slit your throat. Won't put food in your belly or end this nightmare we've been trapped in all because of the actions of our ancestors centuries ago. My parents certainly didn't have any of their children because of love. To them we were pawns to be manipulated, a way to climb ever higher in our clan. You Dayclans may preach about the values of family, of how supportive you are of each other, but that's only because you've never had to _live_, to _survive. _Did you think I would want to reduced Rena and Jukati to this? To see them as brainless idiots, looking like sixty instead of twenty? Growing up hearing about how powerful they were, how so much is expected of me because of their moment of weakness. They could have been great in our clan, but they gave it all up for me! They could have made a difference, instead they saddle those expectations on _my_ shoulders. They're cowards, and I hate them for it!_"_

Quin ended his rant panting heavily, tears streaming out of yellow-irised eyes. The dark side was crackling around him, coalescing into a tangible storm-cloud.

"That's enough Quin," his sister unexpectedly said, her tone firmly, a hand placed on his shoulder. She turned suddenly focused eyes onto Sanola, there was fierce daring in them, but also protectiveness. "You've caught him at a bad time, Jedi. When he seeks Jukati and I out, he deliberately immerses himself in dark energies to give us just a few moments of sanity back. We tell him not to waste our gifts, but it is clear that he is just as sentimental as Jukati and I."

Sanola could only swallow, feeling pinpricks at the backs of her own eyes as she struggled not to cry.

"Don't pity us, Jedi," Jukati emerged back from the shadows. As he spoke, however, his face slowly began to go slack once more. "Our choice…wanted…better? Best? Brother…brother to live. Better brother…hahahahaa!"

"Enough!" Quin howled in anguish, using the Force to send both his siblings flying back into the cranny they had come from. He collapsed to his knees and gripped at his hair, sobbing softly as he did. "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this! Hate! Hate! Hate!"

"It's like you said though, Quin," Sanola managed, dropping to her knees next to him. "Things are going to improve. Your people and mine, we'll make each other stronger without sacrificing anything but centuries of biases and preconceptions."

"Sacrifice," Quin panted, hands gripping his head. The dark side continued to pour off of him, surrounding him in a maelstrom of energy. "Sacrifice. We all need a sacrifice."

"Enough, Quin," Rena whispered, crawling weakly out of the darkened nook. Her own voice was full of anguish, her eyes almost a normal brown. "You've given me and Jukati enough. Please, little brother. _Please_."

"Sister," Quin looked up tearfully, reaching out towards the older woman almost plaintively.

Sanola closed her eyes, not wanting to cry, or to intrude.

_It's been like this for generations. _Jukati's thoughts entered Sanola's head. They were tinged with anger, with disgust, but also with pity. _We either kill our brothers and sisters, be killed, or sacrifice ourselves so that they may live. This is what we have been reduced to, Jedi; mere animals doing anything and everything to survive. Your people value credits, value justice and compassion. We, we honor strength, power, passion, the traits needed to live no matter how hard your life may become. There is no peace for us, we've learned that the hard way. It is our passions, our despair and hatred that give us our strength. We are chained to this barbaric form of existence partly by choice, but partly because we are slaughtered by your people for trying anything different. None of us have had the power to rise up to be something more. The strength to truly make a difference. How many lives have been lost in the fighting, Jedi? How many years wasted because of the close-mindedness of our peoples? Rena and I are just two of thousands of Nightsisters and brothers who will never know what a 'normal' life is because we've never had a choice to be anything other than a product of your people's hatred and fear._

"I'm sorry," Sanola whimpered, the tears coming anyways as her words rung hollow even to her own ears. What type of apology could ever make up for the suffering Quin's people had undergone? "I'm so sorry. I promise, I'll make things better. I'll tell my aunt about all this, I'll tell the Jedi and everyone else, I swear it. I'll help to make things better. To make things right."

"Sanola."

The Dathomiri teen's eyes snapped open. Quin was standing in front of her, looking both embarrassed and ashamed, but having none of the dark aura that had been wrapped around him. "Quin?"

"Sorry…you had to see that," Quin looked to the side. "I'm just a weak mix-breed male who needed some encouraging words before tomorrow's fight. Thought my brother and sister would have uncovered a few things, a new view of life, in their insanity."

"I…you're not weak," Sanola managed faintly, her own head bowed as she wiped at her tears. "I…I know I wouldn't have the strength to survive out here, alone, without any friends or family. Your passions give you strength, but me…it's peace, the knowledge that I have friends and family who will support me."

Quin laughed hesitantly. "Maybe one of the first things our peoples will teach each other is how to use our passions and that peace of yours to become even stronger."

"Yeah," Sanola glanced towards the crevice, but saw no signs of Quin's siblings. "Will they be…?"

"Another few months and it might have been too late," Quin murmured, staring off into the distance. "Most of their minds are gone already. I'm just sharing my own memories of them to give them life again. They chose to exile themselves when they were just fifteen and thirteen. They've been here for almost eight years now, a third of their whole lives, half of mine. I barely remember what they were like before…"

"The healers at the praxeum can help," Sanola said.

"Thank you," Quin said hoarsely.

"It's what we Jedi do," Sanola tried to smile, but understood just how little that saying meant now. Running around saving a galaxy seemed noble, but when there were so many problems at home, it seemed foolish to just leave and try to solve problems in someone else's backyard. She also wondered about the leadership of the Dathomiri clans, if they were even aware of how many were suffering because of their strict adherence to Allya's rules. If there was one thing she was certain about, however, it was that if she was going to be a Jedi, she was definitely going to make sure that things would be different on Dathomir.

**I—(V)—I **

"Master Ti, Teneniel, Damaya." Sanola, Aviana, and Rajade all bowed respectfully as the leaders of the Jedi Praxeum on Dathomir stepped out of the Yuuzhan Vong transport and onto the front steps of the primary Star Temple. The sky was still dark, lit up by the occasional flash of ionized lightning of the perpetual storm overhead.

Other members of the praxeum emerged. Sanola recognized the trio who had tested her for her failed knighting exam, Sansu, Kirna, and Negala. Nikti and Viica—two of the Jedi that had originally been on the diplomatic mission—also emerged, smiling wanly at Sanola and tilting their heads in silent acknowledgment.

"Master Ti," Aviana said hesitantly. "How many people did you bring?"

"The Jedi take protecting their allies very seriously," Damaya answered instead. "All capable fighters are present…As well as your new…friends…that you've picked up along the way."

"Commander Ruuq?" Sanola blinked, unable to hide her shock as the Yuuzhan Vong commander likewise emerged. A dozen other warriors followed him out, all armed and looking as imposing as a heavily scarred Yuuzhan Vong warrior could.

"_Jeedai_," the Yuuzhan Vong leader nodded once, his face stoic.

Sanola sent a questioning glance at her aunt, but Kirana too was stoic; only the slight twitching of Kirana's lips betrayed the smile the older Jedi was fighting. Sanola again glanced at Hural Ruuq, who folded his arms in front of him. "We are Yuuzhan Vong. If we are to be a part of an alliance, we will not be the ones that will sit on the sidelines and let others do our fighting. Plus…as this is most likely the last opportunity to fight a meaningful fight in a while, some of my warriors wished to die in battle and join their crèchemates who have fallen in years past. I am granting them that request."

"Thank you," Sanola managed, not missing the smirk that finally managed to appear on her aunt's face.

When the transport was finally emptied, nearly twenty Jedi stood with the dozen Yuuzhan Vong, all armed, armored, and ready to do battle.

Night Queen Ros Lai stepped forward out of the Star Temple, escorted by two dozen of her own Nightsisters and brothers. Surveying the line of reinforcements, she arched an eyebrow at Kirana. "What? You Jedi had nothing better to do?"

"There's that too," Kirana admitted lightly. "We can only meditate on things for so long. All of us are at your disposal, Night Queen."

"How charitable, Jedi Master," Ros gestured to those at her side. "These are all the fighters my own clan has. Even with your help, we'll still be outnumbered three to one. But that is far better than previous odds."

"What are our objectives?" Teneniel asked.

Ros eyed the Jedi and Yuuzhan Vong. "In Nightclan culture, such a declaration of war is to complete annihilation—warriors, clanmembers, women, children. We have no desire to leave any descendants around who might want revenge in the future, and we have no wish to share the meager resources with any survivors of the clans that wished to kill us in the first place. However, in the interest of our new alliance, I will settle for the complete annihilation of their attacking force. We eliminate those coming for us, and we will have effectively rendered their clans impotent for a couple of generations; that is, of course, unless another clan decides to wipe them out in the interim."

"Thank you for your consideration," Kirana tilted her head.

"Let history know that we've tried at least," Ros shrugged. "Nightclans understand power. Should we be successful, other Nightclans will seek out the alliance we have made with you Jedi…and Yuuzhan Vong. Should we fail, then we will most likely be dead, so we have little to worry about in that case."

"Strategy?" Damaya asked. Of the Jedi, she seemed to be the most on edge surrounded by so many dark side users.

"My people will concentrate on striking fear into the hearts of those who dare encroach on my domain," Ros said coolly. "We will be using our most visceral and traumatizing abilities, holding nothing back. This is a battle for survival, one we fully intend to win."

"Then we will provide support," Kirana said sharply. "Give your people enough time to focus and harness your abilities."

"You do not object to our use of your 'dark side'?"

"This is a battlefield, an enemy, and a culture you know better than I, Night Queen," Kirana replied evenly. "In true war, in anarchy, there are no rules, no awards for being polite or considerate of your enemy. If this truly is a fight for annihilation, I have no doubt that the enemy clans will use similar techniques; so we would be foolish to take a moral ground in this case."

"You surprise me."

"However," Kirana held the Night Queen's gaze. "In the future, I hope that our two sides can teach other enough so that such techniques will only be used as a last resort."

"Now that sounds more like I am used to," Ros Lai surprised everyone with a gravelly chuckle. "I was afraid the Jedi had changed _too_ much since I last met them."

"Master Ti, Night Queen," Sanola interrupted nervously. "What will Commander Ruuq and his men do?"

"They're our skifter," Kirana answered. "Immune to most Force abilities and nearly invisible in the Force, we can use them to flank our attackers or catch them in a pincer attack while we occupy the enemy clanmembers."

"And when we defeat these Nightclan warriors?" Sanola continued softly. "Their noncombatants shouldn't have to suffer because we took away their only means to defend themselves."

Kirana inclined her head at her niece, allowing a small note of pride to traverse their Force bond. "When we capture the _survivors _of the attack." The Jedi Master emphasized the word, causing Ros Lai to roll her eyes. "We'll ask where their clans are and send aid. As the Dathomiri clans hold some responsibility for the condition of the Nightclans, it is only fair we do our part to fix the damage."

"Compassion," Ros Lai deadpanned. "That is going to take some getting used to."

"Agreed," Hural Ruuq said gruffly. "In the old times, defeated enemies were sacrificed to the gods or turned into slave labor. We did not waste our resources strengthening them again. Who in their right minds strengthens enemies anyways?"

"The Jedi have always been too…nice," Ros Lai nodded.

"Is it odd or scary that a Nightsister and a Yuuzhan Vong are actually agreeing on something," Rajade said in mock whisper.

"Scary," Aviana replied. "Definitely scary."

"Do not worry, despite the odds, the enemy clans have made a grave mistake of venturing into this desert," Ros Lai's voice took on a steely inflection. "There is a reason why my clan has survived nearly fifty years out here despite being cut off from most of the planet. You will be some of the fortunate few to see why."

**I—(VI)—I **

Despite the fact that Sanola, Rajade, and Aviana had proven themselves adept at surviving, both Kirana and Ros Lai were not about to let their young ones be on the frontlines. Overriding the vehement protests from both Sanola and Quin's group of young friends, the young ones were relegated to the back formation. Training for a fight was one thing, but the visceral combat a battle between multiple Nightclans promised was another thing entirely.

A dozen of the young fighters were stationed at the top of a pyramid which had lost its tip, told to 'watch and learn' from the coming fight. They would be allowed to engage only if they saw part of the line collapsing. As disgruntled as they were, the dozen reluctantly agreed. They were all too young to remember the carnage of the Yuuzhan Vong War, too inexperienced to truly know what it took to take a life. But they would have to learn, and quickly. They couldn't remain sheltered when the galaxy would eventually call on them, rely on them to perform feats most others would shy away from. At least in this instance, they had the luxury of _not_ participating in a galactic war, merely a small facsimile which could be mirrored on any planet in the galaxy.

Any planet full of Force-sensitives hell bent on eradicating one and other, in any case.

Not that such a conflict would be at all common outside of Dathomir.

But who knew what the future held in store for them.

So, as the skies crackled with jagged bolts of lightning, the clouds rumbling angrily, and a fierce wind sweeping across the toneless dunes of sand, the dozen young warriors looked on with trepidation. Using electrobinoculars, they could see the ranks of the approaching enemy, many rows deep and at least twenty across in a staggered formation.

"They're bringing Rancors," Quin said mildly.

"Those are much larger than any Rancor I've ever seen," Sanola murmured, eyes wide. Dathomiri Rancors were known for their tremendous size and ferocity, making most others look like harmless, tiny puppies in comparison. But the ones she was seeing, they were easily twice that size, and had jaws full of terrifying, person-sized teeth.

"They've been using forbidden arts, then," Quin replied, his body tense. "Kyrisa was renowned for twisting an animal's genome to better suit her needs. She probably passed some of those techniques down to her followers."

"At least there's only six of those things." Rajade tried to sound upbeat, but failed as the half-dozen Rancors let out body-shaking roars.

In comparison the line of Infinity Gate clan Nightsisters and brothers, and the reinforcements from the praxeum, looked absolutely puny.

"What was that about your side striking fear into their hearts?" Sanola said in a low voice. "Just look at the size of those things!"

As if on cue, the young Jedi and Nightclansmen felt a massive pull of Force energy as someone began to draw upon the Star Temple's Force nexus. They directed their gaze down at the front and saw Kirana, Teneniel, and Ros Lai focusing hard on the giant beasts.

"Such power," Quin shuddered.

"No kidding," Sanola's mouth was as dry as the surrounding desert.

As the enemy lines drew within eye-sight, three things happened in quick succession. The ionized bolts of energy in the air suddenly coalesced into a spiraling storm above Kirana, the howling winds picked up around Teneniel, and a dark miasma surrounded Ros Lai. All three matriarchs thrust their hands out in unison.

The spiraling lightning streaked down into Kirana's outstretched hand, and then raced across the desert and hit one of the giant Rancors square in the forehead. Like an overripe melon, the creature's massive head exploded, pitching its riders off its back as it toppled to the ground.

The howling winds that surrounded Teneniel blew across the sands, stirring up an almost impossible-to-see-through barrier. Tiny grains of sand, nearly breaking the speed of sound, bombarded another Rancor. The Rancor howled in agony as its thick hide was stripped bit by bit by the miniscule projectiles, its eyes obliterated and its open maw bombarded with lethal grains of sand. The winds seemed to surround the target, repeatedly and unrelentingly tearing it and its riders to shreds. When the wind and wall of sand fell away, there was nothing left of the towering beast save bloodied and tissue-stained bones.

Ros Lai evidently decided to one-up her counterparts, lifting two of the giant Rancors up by their throats with seeming ease. The Rancors tried to bellow, but their throats were constricted. Its riders tried to free it of the Force grasp, but Ros Lai shook the giant beasts and sent the riders toppling over the side. After several long seconds, the Rancors became lifeless. With a simple gesture, Ros Lai made a sweeping motion of her hand and sent the corpses into the surviving two Rancors. The bone-on-bone crunch was audible across the desert as the last of the massive creatures toppled to the ground.

An absolute silence followed, as _both_ sides were stunned by the sheer power that was just displayed.

"Okay, I'm scared," Sanola said without thinking, her eyes bulging.

"Same here," Aviana swallowed, shaking her head.

"I've seen grandmother in action before, but that…You Jedi really brought out the worst in her."

The three matriarchs appeared to have spent their reserves, however, and they retreated behind their companions and immediately dropped into meditative trances. The remaining Jedi and Infinity Gate clan members began their advance, heading towards the much larger Nightsister force without a moment of hesitation. The howling winds had all but abated, the sky unnaturally clear—letting the starlight touch the desert for the first time in a long while.

A pink glow lit up across the lines of enemy Nightsisters and brothers, the telltale signs of the famed plasma bow. Like glimmering jewels, volley after volley of lethal plasma was launched into and danced through the air. Though they were mostly relying on the sheer number of arrows to overwhelm their opponent, the Force was also guiding their aim. Beneath this umbrella, the Nightsisters and brothers advanced; crackles of Sith Lightning dancing across their fingertips.

Unexpected for the Jedi, a surge of dark energy flew out from the Star Temple behind them. Little more than mindless beast, the 'exiled' and wretched members of the Infinity Temple clan poured out. Fearless, maddened beyond repair, their only thoughts were of rage, of serving the clan and proving that they were strong enough. Like rabid dogs, they bound past the startled Jedi and plowed headlong into the ranks of the attacking Nightsisters and brothers. Yellowed teeth tore at jugulars, fingers scratching at eyes, at arteries. And though many of these wretched people were cut down after the seconds of surprise wore off, they had served their purpose.

Both the Jedi and Infinity Gate clan members had reached the attackers and were taking advantage of the bewildered confusion. Lightsabers activated on both sides, the sand once again kicked into the air as the initial skirmished devolved into an all-out brawl. Esoteric Force techniques based off of the animals and natural events of Dathomir were employed on both sides—Force-enhanced screams blew out eardrums, limbs shrouded with the Force cut through bodies as if they were lightsabers themselves, Force-induced terrors, shades, combat styles that could be seen only on Dathomir. Despite the odds, the Jedi and Infinity Gate clan were steadily gaining ground.

And then Hural Ruuq and his men joined the fight. Though only twelve strong, they were hardened through a lifetime of warring and immune to a majority of Force techniques. They hit the Nightsister flank and carved their way through with impunity. Joyful cries of _do-ro'ik vong pratte _and praises to the gods joined in with the angry screeching and snarls of pain rising up from all over the battlefield.

Kirana Ti and Teneniel rejoined the fight, springing up from where they had been meditating and landing smack dab in the middle of it all with lightsabers blazing.

"Traitors!" A Nightsister screamed in the direction of the Star Temples. Somehow her voice was heard above the din . "Traitors, all of you! Forsaking our vow to never bend knee to them, to join forces and become rulers of this planet. They must pay for everything they've put us through! Have you forgotten their crimes? Have you truly lost your senses?"

A blast of dark side energy sent Jedi and Infinity Gate clan members flying like ragdolls. A group of five Nightsisters, all projecting dark power, began carving their own way through the battlefield. It was immediately clear that they too had tapped into the Force nexus of the place, and that didn't bode well for anyone.

One Yuuzhan Vong warrior tried to charge them, but they spun away like one, and then spun back, impaling him with five ruby red blades. One of the Jedi attempted to send a blast of Force energy, only to have her attack caught and sent back at her several times over. The Jedi was bowed backwards, spine snapping from the freight-train like column of Force energy that had hit her.

Teneniel, Kirana, and their remaining allies quickly formed a unified front against the very apparent threat the five Nightsisters presented.

"What do you hope to gain by this?" Kirana said sharply. "You've lost your entire fighting force. You face dozens by yourself. Withdraw. This battle is lost."

"To you maybe," the lead Nightsister hissed, revealing a row of red-painted teeth. "But we have only just fired the opening shots of a war that will consume this planet. When the Dread Queen returns, her faithful will be rewarded. We will present to her this planet, and your heads."

"A war, with only the five of you?"

"You might be able to cut us down today, you might not. But there are things even you Jedi remain ignorant of despite all your vaunted power and wisdom. The true Nightsisters will never yield to you, will never accept your pity. We will die before doing so, we will die just to see you high and mighty Jedi trampled beneath our feet. You cannot stop the coming storm any more than you can heal this planet," the Nightsister let out a maddening laugh. "And you won't live to see that storm anyways."

All have thrust out their hands and a broiling blast of Sith Lightning erupted out of their fingertips. The sand beneath the streams of purple and black lightning instantly glassed over, the air steaming as what little moisture was left completely evaporated. A Yuuzhan Vong warrior attempted to interpose himself between the Jedi and the attack, and promptly had a hole burned right through his midsection.

Ros Lai immediately joined Kirana, Teneniel, and the rest to try and ward off the attack. But their opening efforts to bring down the mutant Rancors had left them drained, and it was all they could do to endure the blistering heat. One by one, the other Jedi began to drop to their knees, straining to fight off the ceaseless barrage of lightning. They too had been tired from the fighting and were relying on the last of their reserves.

Sanola looked to the other eleven young teens with her. "We have to do something."

"Like?" Rajade asked in a low voice.

Sanola took count of their group. There were five Jedi and seven members of Quin's clan. "Same plan my aunt used. Quin, can you and your people lay down covering fire? Rajade, Aviana, Nikti, Viica, and I will go in close and try to disrupt those Nightsisters' concentration."

"They'll fry you in a split second," Quin shook his head.

"Then do you have an idea?"

"You need someone capable of taking on great amounts of dark side energy," Quin said. "Half my group will go with you, the others can fire their bows."

"Then lets do it," Aviana called out. "The others aren't going to last much longer."

**I—(VII)—I **

The five Nightsisters continued their hate and vengeance-powered attack with delightful rage dancing across their faces. The lightning highlighted their dark-side stained countenances and yellowed eyes, giving them an even greater manic appearance.

Suddenly a lone arrow of plasma streaked through the sky. One of the Nightsisters was forced to break off her attack to deflect it. Before she could rejoin the others, two more arrows whistled out from the top of a pyramid.

"They dare." The Nightsister growled. Four arrows, shot with perfect timing, bombarded the Nightsister, who was forced to take one in the arm to block the other three. "They dare!"

The shockwaves of eight Force-powered screams suddenly blasted the Nightsister backwards, sending her body tumbling across the sand dunes. Sanola and Quin advanced in front of their friends, weapons held tightly in their hands, their Force bonds reinforcing each other's strengths.

"Deal with them!" The red-teethed Nightsister gestured to two of her sisters.

The two likewise broke off their attack, activating crimson lightsabers and glaring down at the group of teens. "This is a fight for adults, kids shouldn't intervene."

Shimmering yellow and blood-red blades ignited side by side. As did pairs of blue and red, green and red, and purple and red, and orange and red.

"You heard my aunt," Sanola said levelly. "You gain nothing by fighting. Leave."

"I'm shaking," one of the two Nightsisters smirked.

Quin raised an eyebrow. "That can be arranged."

Quin and his friends lifted the talkative Nightsister into the air in a combined Force-grip and promptly thrashed her about. The second Nightsister moved to intervene, but was bombarded by the Force Scream of Sanola and her Jedi half of the group. Much like Ros Lai had done with the Rancors, Quin jerked his hand and sent the dangling Nightsister plowing into her unsteady partner. The two dark-siders instantly tumbled down the near sand dune in a pile of limbs.

The red-teethed Nightsister swore violently, and she and her remaining partner broke the attack. Their fingertips had blackened, and they looked almost as weary as the Jedi they had been assaulting. "This isn't the last you'll hear of us, Jedi."

"I'm sure," an exhausted Kirana answered. "But the next time you come will result in more of the same. Dathomir is stronger together than it is divided. You'll find yourself in short supply of followers once the rest of the planet sees this."

The Nightsister smirked. "Or so you think. I'll be seeing you, Jedi."

The two remaining Nightsisters turned to leave, and then were frozen in their tracks.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Ros Lai said coolly, hand gripping her lightsaber in a loose grip.

"Night Queen, they're beaten," Kirana said sharply.

"And let them raise another army and come back? I think not. I said it earlier, didn't I? I will accept nothing less than the full annihilation of their attacking Force. They'll definitely have trouble finding followers once they're dead."

Before another word could be said, Ros Lai sped between the two Nightsisters and promptly removed their heads in two efficient strokes of her lightsaber. When the bodies collapsed to the ground, Ros Lai turned back to the Jedi.

"Let me clarify something for you, young Jedi. Before you preach about how doing this is no better than what they do, remember, the Infinity Gate clan_ is_ a Nightsister clan. The only thing that separates us from the other Nightsisters is that we have the foresight to ally with the winning side. Our methods, our philosophies, will remain for a very long time. If you wish to create a unified Dathomir, you will need to endure the harshness as well as the pleasantness . The Infinity Gate clan was, and always will be, a Nightsister clan that works outside of Allya's laws. We will fight for you, die for you, but do _not_ ask us to change our ways or treat them with scorn. They are what has enabled us to survive for centuries, are what keeps us strong. They are why you saw it worth enough to seek us out. Dathomir will always be as it should, a balance between the night and the day. Because only when it is at that equilibrium will our two sides be unstoppable."

**I—(VII)—I **

Sanola let out a breath as she collapsed into her bunk at the Jedi Praxeum. The familiar rocky ceiling above—with its faint striations and cracks—was unexpectedly comforting, after the weeks she had had. It was as if she had just received a life-time's worth of previews for what was in store for her, as if she had just experienced a moment in destiny. Her destiny as the eventual leader of the praxeum.

Two weeks ago, had someone come up to her and told her she would soon play a pivotal role in reshaping the balance of power on her home planet, and form an alliance with two former enemies of her clan, she would have called them insane. She was only a few weeks shy of her fourteenth birthday, was just a mere apprentice. Making friends with Nightsisters? Finding a forgotten garrison of Yuuzhan Vong and bring them into the fold? Doing these already impossible tasks with no Jedi Masters or Knights in support and only two young apprentices as lost and confused at her? It seemed really unlikely, improbable, impossible even.

Yet, that's what she had done.

And it both scared and invigorated her at the same time. Dathomiri women lived for adventure, but there was such thing as _too_ _much_ adventure. Maybe becoming a full Jedi Knight could wait for a little while. After all, there was much, much more to come.

The homes of the attacking Nightclans had been located. But by the time the Jedi and Infinity Gate forces arrived, the sites had all been abandoned, not a trace of anyone remaining. Where they had gone, whether Kyrisa was behind it all, what the future held for Dathomir, was uncertain. But Sanola knew that the future was definitely fast approaching, and she wasn't sure she was ready for it.

There was a knock on the doorframe of her quarters.

"Quin," Sanola acknowledged, keeping her eyes closed. "Your brother and sister?"

"Recovering," the Nightbrother answered, his voice missing the tempered edge he normally spoke with. "Your healers are as efficient as you said."

Sanola heard the heavy wooden chair by her desk scrape across the floor. "Will you be staying until they recover?"

"I…maybe."

Sanola opened her eyes and turned her head towards Quin's seated figure. "What's holding you back?"

"It's too…too…relaxed here," Quin said, his hands tightening on the tops of his thighs. "Like a warped mirror of everything I've learned while growing up in the desert. The people here, most of them know how to survive, train for it, but they've never _had to_ survive a single day of their lives. You never have to worry about food shortages, about whether the next trading party made it to their destination, or if you'll survive the next bout of sandlung because you don't have the right medicines. You never had to worry if someone in your clan was plotting to kill you to take your belongings, or if you were being used in some power-scheme to seize control of your clan. Everyone here…they're _happy_, smiling, almost ignorant of what the darker side of life is about."

"Well your people don't have to live like they used to anymore," Sanola answered gently. "Since Hural Ruuq and Nas Choka agreed to leave a shuttle behind to ferry supplies and people between our two sides, you'll be safe, have all the food and medical supplies you'll need. And all those power-struggles and backstabbing should decrease as resources for your clan become more plentiful."

Quin managed a half-smile. "Safe. That's a concept I have to get used to. Me and all the others from my clan."

"I know Aviana and a couple others from the praxeum are staying on at the Star Temples to learn from your instructors. I'd imagine the culture shift to be just as shocking."

"They are definitely in for a few surprises," Quin chuckled ruefully. "Several of my own clan have expressed an interest in seeing what the Jedi have to offer too. Even if I don't stay, you'll see more than a few of my clansmen about. Probably more once other Nightclans join our alliance."

"I never thought I'd see the day I'd be friends with a Nightbrother, much less see Nightsisters walk around the praxeum with smiles on their faces."

"The same goes for me. We were brought up on thoughts of vengeance, on reclaiming our rightful place as rulers of this planet. This is kind of a bit different than what I imagined my clan's future would be."

"A lot different than what I'd imagine my future would be too," Sanola sighed, refocusing on the rocky ceiling above. "Before the mission, all I wanted to do was pass my trials, become a Jedi Knight and go out and make my difference in the galaxy. This planet is my home, but I wanted to see the stars, do all the things the Jedi in the stories have done—you know, fight galaxy-changing battles, save whole planets with feats of daring, be that shield against the dark-side. I couldn't wait to go out there, to show everyone that the Singing Mountain Clan is a force to be reckoned with. That the niece of Jedi Master Kirana Ti could do great deeds too."

"And now?"

"Now?" Sanola let out a small snort. "Now I just want to curl up into my bunk and wish a way all those expectations and dreams. If a simple diplomatic mission on my home planet was this nerve-wracking, what in blazes will the galaxy have in store?"

"To be fair, I think Dathomir is an outlier," Quin said dryly. "How many other planets out there have Force-sensitive clans battling for supremacy in a war that's lasted over three centuries?"

"A war we just took the first steps to help end. It's too surreal." Sanola turned back to the Nightbrother. "I had a talk with Master Djo earlier, about my place in the galaxy, what I should do next."

"What did she say?"

"That I should never follow a handsome man off-planet just because he was a strong and attractive warrior, and a prince to boot. Not unless he has a recipe for…something called a 'Hapan jambalaya'."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, I didn't get that either," Sanola shrugged. "But she also did say that the galaxy was nothing like I'd ever experienced before, nothing like what was in the stories. Even if there might be something familiar, the other planets can still be as alien as they come. You know about Hapes, right? The one where the women also rule."

"Your friend Rajade mentioned that the founder of his clan comes from there."

"Master Djo told me that on the planet Hapes, they actually have _courses_ every meal. That they wear multiple layers of clothing, each costing more than what most of us make in a single year! They live in metal buildings, think the landscape is something to tame, and care only for their appearances and power. And that's all normal to them."

"That last part I can definitely relate to," Quin remarked, letting his head loll backwards to focus on the ceiling. "I know what you're saying, though. On the rare occasion when it was clear over the desert, I often looked to the stars and wondered if life on the planets orbiting them would be better than the life I was living. If I could somehow steal a ship and take my brother and sister away from this wretched place and to one of those worlds. It's hard to believe so much has changed over so little time. As if this planet has suddenly gotten a lot bigger."

"Or the galaxy just got a whole lot smaller," Sanola said with a weak laugh. "Force, what I expect from myself, what others expect from me, what I want to do, and what the galaxy has planned for me, I think I'll go crazy."

"Are you staying on at the praxeum then? Continue to help with the ending of the war?"

"Me? I'm not even fourteen yet," Sanola protested. "I'll leave the planet-changing decisions to Master Damaya and the others now."

"What then?"

"I think I've had enough with being a Jedi for a while. In the Yuuzhan Vong War, I heard that my aunt was an ace-pilot and that she flew with the best of the Jedi. I'm going to start using those fighter simulators Master Streen brought in. Maybe become an off-world pilot and fly with other Jedi pilots. When I have more life experience, I'll come back here, use what I've learned to better this planet, just like my aunt."

"How long are you going to follow in your aunt's shadow?"

"Until I can eclipse it. I'm a Dathomiri warrior through and through after all."

"Good point, stupid question."

"Maybe…maybe you can join the fighter-program too. Or the tactics and strategy program," Sanola added quickly. "They're not strictly Force-philosophy related and they have the most non-Dathomiri students. If being around…Dayclans… is too much, maybe something a bit more alien? I don't know, it was just an idea."

Quin was silent for a long moment, and then nodded slowly. "Actually, I think I might do that. Would it be okay to recommend a similar course of action for several of my clansmen? I know they're just as hesitant as I am being surrounded by people we've been trained to hate and kill for all of our lives."

"Go ahead," Sanola grinned. "It'd be interesting to see how your minds work compared to that of the off-worlders or one of my own clansmen."

Quin raised an eyebrow. "I foresee the times ahead to be very, _very_ interesting."

"To say the least," Sanola chuckled. She held out a hand. "Here's to facing the future together."

"And to coming out of it somehow in one piece," Quin placed his hand on top of her own.

"To Dathomir," Rajade added, entering the room with Aviana behind him. He added his hand to the others "And its people, no matter how different we are. You guys are missing a great dinner, come on."

"Way to ruin the mood, Rajade,' Aviana playfully nudged him with her elbow and extended a hand of her own. "And here's to new friendships, may they last for as long as we live."

The four young teens smiled at their piled hands with silly grins on their faces, laughing as they prepared themselves for whatever else the future had planned for them.

**I—(End)—I**

**A\N: **So ends my Dathomir mini-arc, hope it was enjoyable to all. I soooooo, wanted to do so much more with this planet, but didn't feel like squeezing out another epic as I work on the aDA sequel. Next up is the one-shot that inspired me to start this interlude story, a small trip back to Yavin 8...

This chapter was earlier than usual 'cause I'll be crazy busy for the near future. Next chapter will probably be up early/mid-April just to keep with the theme of increasingly early updates. There are five more chapters left of this interlude fic, so it should take us all the way to August if I've planned things right. The aDA sequel will have its first chapter up in November, so there'll be a small gap between this fic and my next story. On the bright side, if this fic didn't exist, all of you would be waiting eleven months for the sequel with nothing in between =p.

Please leave a review if you so desire, it's always fun to read about your reactions.


	5. Chapter 5

A Destiny Reached

_But you can't stop the change, no more than you can stop the sun from setting._

_-Shmi Skywalker_

**O( I( O(**

"Doran."

The Jedi adventurer immediately looked up at the note of fear and apprehension in the voice of his best friend and girlfriend, fellow adventurer, Jedi Knight Sannah. In the doorway to the cockpit of their ship, _A Melodie's Treasure—_a _Deepwater-_class freighter Doran's parents had given the two of them shortly after the war had ended—Sannah was hugging herself with one arm, anxiety radiating out from her.

"Sannah?" Doran spun around in his chair, making a move to stand.

"It's time."

Doran froze in place as the panic-inducing words most men fear trickled through his brain. 'It's time' was right up there with 'we need to talk' and 'do you think this outfit makes me look fat.' Unlike most instances of 'it's time,' however, there was no happy news or baby on the way.

It was biologically impossible.

Sannah was a Melodie, two weeks shy of twenty years old and on the verge of entering the adult phase of her life. It meant that she would soon enter a metamorphosis and transform into a gill and finned humanoid creature who would live out the rest of her life in the waters of Yavin 8. It also meant that she and Doran would have to part ways.

As the words finally registered, Doran sank back into his chair and said the first thing that came to his mind. "Are you sure?"

Sannah smiled nervously, nodded. "Pretty sure. The air's getting harder to breathe, and look." She held up her hands, folds of skin had formed between her fingers making them a bit more webbed than a human hand. "Also, I've been having these really annoying pains in my neck, so I think my gills are coming in too."

"Oh," Doran whispered, his stomach bottoming out. He had been prepared for this moment ever since he had started a relationship with the talented and beautiful young woman nearly five years ago. But the reality of it, that he would lose his best friends due to events beyond either of their control, was still hard to digest.

"I'll set a course for Yavin Eight." The third occupant of their ship, fourteen year old Kyrelle Frieneil, said in a subdued tone, breaking the silence. She was fairly small in the co-pilot's chair, her jet black hair tied back in a simple pony-tail. Her skin was a couple shades lighter than Sannah mocha complexion, yet still dark enough to give the teen a slightly exotic look.

Kyrelle had been traveling with both Doran and Sannah since a couple months after the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War. Though her brother was Jorallen Frieneil, a Jedi who had died in the Yuuzhan Vong War using some complex Force technique, she herself was relatively weak in the Force. Or at least, the Force had never come naturally to her. She had the potential, but not the ability to unlock it. And growing up in an era of Solos, Skywalkers, and other famous force users, it was more than a little discouraging for a young, just-turned teenage girl. Her self-esteem and confidence had been at an all-time low, and her frustration had been mounting. It had been one of the reasons why the Masters Solusar had had Doran and Sannah pick her up in the first place. They had been hoping that an unorthodox teaching style would be able to do what standard practices and lessons couldn't.

And Kyrelle was very grateful that they had. Under Sannah and Doran's teachings, she had blossomed and become more in tune with the Force than before. She still wasn't as skilled with it, but that no longer stop her from trying. Of course, the seemingly impossible life-or-death situations they always seemed to find themselves in, even in the three years she had been traveling with them, was a pretty helpful motivating factor.

There was something motivating about trying to lift a giant ship with the Force for the first time…when the ship was about come crashing down on you.

To the young Kyrelle, Sannah was like an older sister, a role model she looked up to. Doran was the big brother she had never gotten a chance to know, her teacher and guide. She never felt like a third-wheel with them, and their love for each other only served to keep her supportive foundation all the more stable. She was close to the both of them, and they to her, and she was no happier than Doran was to hear Sannah's proclamation.

"Thank you, Kyre," Sannah said, a regretful smile fluttering across her face.

Kyrelle climbed out of her chair and hugged the Melodie fiercely. "I'm going to miss you."

"Hey, you and Doran can stop looking so sad," Sannah laughed, rubbing the younger girl's back. "I'm just…entering another phase of my life. Growing up."

"Fish-Girl," Doran said, meeting her tear-filled yellow eyes with a small, sad grin. He used their bond to communicate his love for her. His happiness that they had at least had those past five years together.

Sannah gripped Kyrelle harder, glaring at Doran. "Stop it, you're going to make me cry."

"And that'll make _me_ cry," Kyrelle sniffled.

"And then you'll have two crying girls on your hands."

"And we know you can't deal with crying girls," Kyrelle finished with a choked laugh.

"Just because I couldn't handle that entire harem of crying women on Tof doesn't mean I can't handle crying women," Doran objected as playfully as he could. He got up from his chair and joined the group hug, sharing his feelings with the both of them. The other two returned the gesture, and they all just tried to reinforce each other.

"You'll stay for my entire Changing?" Sannah whispered, her head tucked on top of Kyrelle's and against Doran's chest.

"Of course, Fish-Girl," Doran kissed the top of her head.

Sannah nodded, making a small whimpering sound as she gripped the two of them tighter. "I don't want to leave you guys. I don't want to grow up any more. I'm perfectly happy here, jetting off across the galaxy and doing all the things Jedi are supposed to. I don't want this to end."

Doran swallowed painfully. There was nothing he could do; a rare occasion given how eclectic their many adventures had been, how diverse their Force training had become. They knew how to slow time, to trace someone through the Force, to phase through walls, but none of those would help here. As the oldest in the ship, he figured that he should be the most level-headed about things. But Sannah was a large part of his life, his partner in crime and his best friend. They had been through so much together, and he owed her so much as well.

It was no fun adventuring throughout the galaxy if you were the only one doing it

"I know," Doran whispered back, his own tears finally falling. "I know. If I could have it any other way, it'd be you, me, and Kyrelle swooping about the stars forever and ever; Adventure Boy, Fish-Girl, and their plucky sidekick, Spirit Girl."

"That sounds like the premise of a very bad holo-comic," Kyrelle couldn't help but giggle.

Sannah emitted another sobbing laugh as she nodded again. "I'm going to miss you guys so much."

"We knew this would have to end some day," Doran murmured.

Kyrelle slid out from between the two of them and back into the co-pilot's seat.

Sannah and Doran took the opportunity given to them to kiss, a soft and tearful kiss.

"We'll be at Yavin Eight in three hours," Kyrelle whispered once the kiss ended. "If you two want to retire to the living quarters, I have things under control up here."

"Thank you," Sannah said, lashes fluttering as tears continued to run down her cheeks.

Doran wrapped an arm around the Melodie and they solemnly exited the cockpit together; the doors swooshing shut behind them with an air of finality.

**O( II( O(**

"Home sweet home." Sannah breathed in a deep breath of crisp mountain air, stepping out from the _A Melodie's Treasure_ and into the shallow waters of one of Yavin 8's many lakes. On her back was a single sack full of her belongings and a whole bunch of souvenirs from her adventures in the far off places of the galaxy.

Sannah took another step, gazing about the overgrown plants around them and the purple mountains in the distance. The myriad of lifeforms that existed on Yavin 8 all sung to her on a more primal level. She had grown up avoiding avril, reels, raiths, and purella. Existed on a diet of silvery fish and marsh plants. Her home had been a sheltered cave used by Melodie children of past eras. Her first teachers and protectors had been older Melodie girls and boys, who guarded the caves with crudely fashioned spears and pointy sticks. And her greatest fears were being eaten and dying of boredom. Life had been simple. Survive, grow up, become a fish.

And then Anakin and Tahiri had come along with Lyric, and her life had never been the same since.

Forget simply leaving the planet, she was probably the first Melodie who had been to all four corners of the galaxy. The first Melodie to actually leave the galaxy and visit the satellite galaxy of Firefist. She had seen crime-lords and warlords, crazed lords, and self-proclaimed dread-lords. Had conversations with sentient crystals, millennia old computers, and confused AI's. Had tasted foods that most Melodies probably wouldn't even dream of. Was trained by Mandalorians. Fought in an intergalactic war. Saw countless systems, each with their own unique quirks and perils. She had rescued thousands, been rescued herself. Made new friends, fell in love.

There were so many stories she could tell her fellow Melodie that she didn't know where to begin.

Doran wrapped an arm around her waist, and she leaned into him with a resigned sigh. They had spent the last three hours just curled up together in their bed, reminiscing about their childhood and all the crazy things they had been through.

Almost on cue, they heard a frightened cry from the nearby forest.

Doran and Sannah exchanged wry grins. Kyrelle just rolled her eyes from the airlock of the ship. "Go, I'll stay with the ship."

Like little kids, both Doran and Sannah raced towards the forest, trusting their senses to guide them.

"I am so going to miss this," Sannah laughed, as the foliage rushed by them.

"Running towards certain danger?" Doran grinned.

"Uh huh. I think I'm going to miss having legs after all."

"Told you you'd grow attached to them."

"Doran!" Sannah groaned, shaking her head. Unlike previous adventures, however, the short trip had left her gasping. Her lungs were already changing to take oxygen out of the water, and each breath was harder than the last. Fortunately, they did not have to travel far.

As they neared their destination, they heard the hisses of various creatures, as well as the cries of young Melodie.

"_Allegre, look out!"_

"_There's too many, we can't make it back to the caves in time!_

"_We can get the younger ones clear at least, go around the left."_

"_No! Capriccia!"_

Both Sannah and Doran burst out into a clearing to see a group of Melodie children, ranging from toddler-sized to teenager, surrounded by a large pack of snarling raiths. Some of the Melodie were already injured and bleeding, the claws of the rodent-like raiths coated in their blood.

A handful of spear-wielding older Melodie had surrounded seven quivering younger ones, looks of grim determination on their faces as they fended off the snapping jaws and claws of the person-sized rat-like creatures menacing them.

"Mele, look! Big-people!" One of the youngest Melodie pointed energetically.

The Melodie, and the raiths, all seem to register Doran and Sannah's arrival at about the same time. Sannah glared at the rodents, and despite being non-sentient, they knew when they had met their match. Without another aggressive move, they all slunk away back into the underbrush.

"Thanks," an older Melodie teen said, clutching a cut to his side. "The younger ones went off exploring and we didn't realize it until it was too late."

"No problem," Sannah knelt down next to him and called on the Force to help mend his wounds.

"You're a Jedi?"

"She's one of us!" A female Melodie said brightly, noting Sannah's webbed hands. "Come back for your Changing?"

"Yeah. That obvious, huh?" Being around so many Melodie again, Sannah felt her spirits lift ever so slightly.

"Wait, if she's a Jedi…Sannah?" The oldest Melodie of the group gasped, pushing through her friends.

Sannah's head jerked up, and a full-fledged grin split her face as she recognized one of her Melodie friends from childhood. "Melequi!"

The two Melodie hugged, and then parted.

"Doran, you met Melequi last time you were here," Sannah said, gesturing to her friend. "She's a year behind me, so she gets to look forward to the Changing next year."

Doran tilted his head, remembering the Melodie as a scared and shaken young teen brandishing a stick at him. "Yup, definitely remember her. She pointed a spear at me when I came out of the water."

"It's my job to protect the little ones," Melequi replied seriously, resting both hands on the shoulder of a six-year old Melodie child.

"And it looks like you were doing a good job of it too," Sannah gestured to the raith bodies that littered the ground.

"Didn't have a choice," Melequi growled protectively. "I wasn't going to let those rats hurt Cappricia and the others."

"Would you like an escort back to the caves?" Doran asked. "We parked our ship nearby."

"A spaceship?" The young Melodie girl in front of Melequi asked in wonder; the trauma of nearly getting eaten by a raith apparently forgotten.

"Yup."

Doran and Sannah exchanged another smile as they had the same idea at the same time. "Say, Melequi, if you want, before you go back to that cave of yours, we can take you and the others into orbit for a little bit. Let them see Yavin Eight from space."

The excited expressions on the faces of the Melodie of every age group gave them their answer.

"Really?" Melequi gasped.

"Really," Sannah beamed. She knew full well that not many would have the chance.

"Fresh as fish-sticks!" One of the other Melodie children blurted. "Can we Melequi? Please?"

"You lot are supposed to be punished for sneaking out like this," Melequi scowled. "Look, Dannal and Nishi are hurt!"

"Please?" Cappricia pleaded, yellow eyes twinkling as she tilted her head back up to the older Melodie.

Both Sannah and Doran's eyebrows shot up. There was no mistaking the Force in the little girl's request.

"I suppose," Melequi relented. She then shook her head in confusion, and looked helplessly at Sannah. "As you might have guessed, here's another one for the Jedi."

Sannah stepped up to Cappricia and squatted down to be at eye-level to the young Melodie. "Hey."

"Hi," Cappricia said shyly.

"You know you can use the Force, right?"

"The Elders said I was special," Cappricia's head bobbed up and down.

"We knew she was Force sensitive," Melequi elaborated. "But we had no way to contact your Order. It's not like we can shine a giant spotlight in the sky and you'll come running."

"Maybe it's the Force that allowed us to meet, then," Sannah answered softly. She looked back to Cappricia. "Do you want to become a Jedi?"

"Like you?" There were stars in the little girl's eyes.

"Uh huh. You see the human I came with?" Sannah gestured over to Doran.

"Uh huh."

"Well, after my Changing, he'll take you to the Jedi Praxeum at Ossus, if you want."

"Will there be the silver fish there? It's my favorite food."

Sannah patted Cappricia's head affectionately. "I'm sure we can arrange for a bunch to be sent there."

"Then I'll go!" Cappricia said brightly. She looked back up to Melequi. "Can I Mele! Please?"

"Yeah," Melequi exhaled. "Though you take care of yourself, Capri, okay?"

Cappricia nodded obediently.

"What about the ride in their spaceship?" Another young Melodie asked.

"We're all going up, provided the Jedi allow it," Melequi answered, caving in to the puppy-dog looks she was receiving from the group; even from the older Melodie.

"Come on then," Sannah took on of Cappricia's hands in her own and the group began walking. "I'll tell you all about the people and planet's I've been to. The galaxy's really an amazing place."

**O( III( O(**

"A fish tank, you turned our ship into a fish tank," Kyrelle giggled softly as she watched the school of Melodie press themselves up against every square centimeter of viewport the _A Melodie's Treasure_ had to offer. The excited babbles and awed exclamations drowned out Kyrelle's comment, but both Sannah and Doran heard her and likewise grinned.

They were currently in high orbit above Yavin Eight. The Melodies eagerly bounding from one side of the ship to the other, getting a closer view of the stars, as well as their first actual look of the planet as a whole. As independent as the Melodie were, they _were_ still children. Children without any real way to stay in touch with their underwater parents. There was a certain air of innocence as small hands pointed at the stars or traced the outline of Yavin against the freighter's viewports.

"I wanna go there!" One Melodie exclaimed, his young imagination not yet knowing the boundaries self-imposed as one grew older. "What's it like at that star system?"

"That one?" Sannah approached the nine-year old and squinted at the direction he was pointing. Those nearby eagerly leaned in to listen. "Hmmm, I think you're pointing to the Radama Void."

"The Radama Void?"

"The main planet there is Ord Radama," Sannah explained. "It's full of swamps, but cities too. Kyrelle, Doran and I visited there last year."

"Really?" The others looked to the two humans in the vessel.

"Really," Kyrelle said, joining Sannah among the group of Melodie. "The people there, the Devlikks, are really weird, and they only live for ten years! They also don't wear clothes either."

The crowd was completely engrossed.

_"Only ten? I'm older than they are!"_

_ "Don't they get cold with no clothes?"_

"Doran, Kyrelle, and I went there because of a disturbance in the Force." Sannah picked up the story. "In an ancient battle site, there were several very angry ghosts that were wrecking havoc on these Devlikk."

"And what did you do?" Whispered a Melodie in hushed tones, eyes wide.

"At first we tried talking to these spirits, convincing them to move on and rejoin the Force. But these spirits were bad ones, full of hatred and anger," Sannah said in a dramatically hushed voice. "It took some ingenuity, and a lot of running, but we eventually managed to clear the battle site and make the place safe for the Devlikk again."

"What about that system?" A Melodie gestured towards the stars.

"Or that one!" Another chattered eagerly.

Sannah shared a grin with Doran. "I'll tell you all about them when we get back to the caves. They'll be plenty of time for all the stories I have."

Nevertheless, the younger Melodie all clustered around her and Kyrelle, asking about their adventures, about the different planets they had been too. The older Melodie—still only in their teenage years—pretended to look disinterested as they stared at the viewports, but from the way they covertly kept turning back to the two Jedi, it was clear that they were listening in too.

And so the next few hours passed, with the _A Melodie's Treasure_ slowly drifting over Yavin 8, its occupants all abuzz about the vast galaxy that they would know only through Sannah's stories.

They oohed and ahhed when Sannah showed them a set of Mandalorian armor. Giggled when she showed off the necklace Doran had created for her. Gasped when she talked about facing down bad guys on distant worlds. Each story was interspersed by the young Melodie rushing to the nearest viewport to point out another star. A babble of voices pleading for just one more story, one more adventure.

As Sannah began another tale, though, she suddenly paused and began to cough, clutching at her throat. She fell to her knees, gasping for air. Her yellow eyes wide in panic.

"Sannah?" Kyrelle said in alarm, using the Force to try and help her friend.

"She needs the algae to breathe," Melequi said quickly, placing a supportive hand on Sannah's back. "Take the ship back down!"

Doran nodded, and the freighter lurched back into the planet's atmosphere at highly unsafe speeds.

"Hang in there Sannah! Just hang in there!"

**O( IV( O(**

The _A Melodie's Treasure,_ fully capable of going underwater itself, splashed down in the lake, sending a small tidal wave rippling across its surface. The hatch was cycled in record time, and both Melequi and Kyrelle supported a still gasping Sannah between the two of them.

"This way!" Melequi directed.

In the meantime, Doran gathered the rest of the Melodie group around him. "Stick close to me. I'll make sure the wildlife stay away."

The group hurriedly left the freighter, their feet creating ripples as they sprinted along the shoreline towards a nearby rocky cove. Though the Yuuzhan Vong had poisoned much of the planet's water-ways during the war, the Melodie had proven themselves as resilient as ever by retreating to hidden underground grottos and carefully tending to the schools of fish and mats of algae that were vital to their continued existence. Small enclaves of Melodie now lived in caves and underground rivers spread throughout the planet, their numbers recovering after the initial losses.

Doran and the others reached the entrance to one such cave. The gap, barely large enough for the older Melodie to slip into, proved a small challenge for Doran's rather large frame, but he somehow managed to squeeze his way in.

"Over there," one of the older Melodie gestured. "The algae and Pool of Changing is in the next chamber."

"Thanks," Doran wasted little time sprinting through the low-ceiling network of tunnels. He could feel Sannah's distress had lessened greatly, and his urgency subsided.

_I'm alright, Adventure Boy._

Doran closed his eyes and gave a silent prayer to the Force. He kept up his pace, however, and rounded the last corner, stepping into the chamber almost frantically.

"Sa….nnah."

"Hi," Sannah waved, almost shyly, her head sitting above the water-line of a glimmering pool.

"Hi," Doran managed.

The chamber the pool was in was a five-meter high damp cavern, lit up in shades of blue and green by naturally occurring bioluminescence in the algae that matted the pool's surface. The water patterns appeared to ripple off the purple-gray walls, giving an almost soothing aura to the area.

But that wasn't what Doran was focused on.

Sannah's clothing was folded up in a neat pile on the smooth stones by the edge of the pool.

Despite their girlfriend-boyfriend status, they had never gone beyond a few heavy make-out sessions; and even during those, their clothes had stayed on. Though several mats of algae appeared to have strategically positioned themselves in front of her, he was definitely seeing more skin than he had ever seen. The blue and greens that shimmered around her only seemed to make her all the more beautiful.

"I said I was alright," Sannah said with a wry smirk, blushing slightly as their bond allowed her to sense some of his thoughts.

"Just making sure," Doran replied, swallowing heavily.

Off to the side, both Melequi and Kyrelle rolled their eyes, but stayed silent. They were well aware of Sannah's closeness to Doran, and being teenage girls, had no desire to ruin a nice mushy moment between the two.

"So," Doran said slowly, squatting down by the edge of the pool and offering her a supportive smile. "You're really becoming a fish."

Sannah's head bobbed, and she swept a webbed hand through the water. "It's going to take me several weeks, but yeah. I'll probably finish my transformation shortly after my birthday."

"And you have to spend the entire time in this pool?"

"Bring me some good reading material?" Sannah said perkily.

"Yeah," Doran reached out and gently cupped her face.

She leaned into his hand, her yellow eyes shimmering once more. "Take care of yourself, Doran, please. And take care of Kyrelle too."

"We'll look out for each other," Kyrelle agreed in a subdued voice.

"Apart from the reading material, do you want us to bring anything else?" Doran asked.

"I had a bag packed," Sannah gestured. "It's full of stuff I kind of want to give out, and a few gifts for my mom and dad as well."

"Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of," Sannah said quietly as the actuality of her situation set in. "Mele, if you want, you can have the little ones drop by and I can continue my stories from this pool."

"I'll get a schedule going," Melequi agreed.

"And just the same, you and Kyrelle don't have to stick around poolside every waking moment, Doran," Sannah whispered.

"We can set up some sort of outside safe-zone for the Melodie," Kyrelle volunteered, thinking of the first Doran-Sannah-like thing that came to her. "So that they don't have to be crammed up in this cave all the time."

"Build a palisade and some nice little huts," Doran agreed.

"Just like what we did on Sarkhai," Kyrelle said brightly. "And this time we don't have to worry about politics and elite families, and all those other nasty things that make adventures un-fun."

"Hey, that's the last time we're adventuring anywhere near the Mid Rim, promise!" Doran squawked turning around and holding his hands up as Kyrelle mock glared at him. "I agree, the less organized governments of the Outer Rim are a lot easier to deal with, but you heard that comm from Master Skywalker. The Grell family has a very long history with the Order and needed our help."

"Fine, maybe I'll forgive you just this once," Kyrelle said with a teasing grin.

Sannah smiled at their antics, while Melequi looked at the two in disbelief. She crept towards the edge of the pool and in a whisper asked. "Where did you find them, Sannah?"

"I just got very lucky," Sannah answered, hugging herself. She closed her eyes and tried to savor the sounds of their voices, knowing that in several weeks' time, she would no longer have the luxury of doing so. As if sensing her bittersweet sadness, both Kyrelle's and Doran's Force presences joined in and wrapped her up in an emotionally charged hug of their own, and Sannah whimpered softly. "Very lucky. Force, I'm going to worry about them so much."

"We'll take care of them while they're here," Melequi reassured her friend. "They'll always be welcome to visit too."

Sannah sniffled and nodded, sinking lower to submerge most of her head. Leaving her childhood best friend and boyfriend, as well as her adoptive younger-sister, was a lot harder than she thought it would be, and she had been expecting it to be pretty hard in the first place.

Both Kyrelle and Doran moved back to the pool and sat on its age, reaching their hands into the cool water to grip each of Sannah's.

"We'll never be too far away, Sannah," Doran said, his voice full of gentleness. There was a solemn promise in his gold and brown eyes as he held her gaze. "If you ever need us for _anything_, even if it's to get you the latest HoloMag, just give us a call."

Sannah blew bubbles in the water in response. _Give you a call? With what?_

"You remember that spare hypercomm unit we picked up that last trip?" Doran said.

Sannah nodded, blinking in slow comprehension.

"Well, Kyrelle and I are going to be leaving it with the Melodie. That way they can contact us, or the Order, if they need to."

"Or order food from one of the many planets you mentioned," Kyrelle piped in to keep the mood light.

"Yeah, that too," Doran grinned. "Both Spirit Girl and I have been planning for this moment ever since your last birthday. Those extra storage crates are full of the latest amenities, pre-fab gizmos, and sports equipment. Before we leave, we're definitely going to give the Melodie something to do other than hide in caves and run for their lives. We'll make you the most popular fish in the sea."

Sannah, tears rolling down her cheeks, emerged half-way from the water and gripped Doran's tunic, pulling him in for a fierce kiss. "I love you," she whispered. "Don't ever change, Doran. I'm so sorry I couldn't give you more time."

"I love you too," Doran whispered, gently caressing her cheek as she lowered herself back into the water. "And don't be sorry. The past five years have been a blast. Nothing but good memories."

Sannah reached for Kyrelle, and the teen leaned in to accept a kiss on her forehead. "You've grown so much, Kyrelle. Don't ever stop trying."

"I won't," Kyrelle shook her head, tears flowing. "You just take care of yourself too, Sannah. I'll make sure Doran and I come back here at least once a month. I'll tell you all about our adventures and the latest craziness and things like that."

"That'd be fun," Sannah bravely smiled. "Now go on, why don't you two get some dinner. You can help me tell the kids a story or two afterwards."

"Which ones?"

"How about the one on Tund?" Doran supplied. "Or maybe our adventure with the water merchants on Altor Fourteen."

"Or that time among the Lamareddian shamans and those two corporations with corrupt officials?" Kyrelle added. "That was a fun one."

"We can tell them an older story, like our mishap on Bakura," Doran said.

"Wasn't that the one where you were captured by a droid?" Kyrelle asked.

"HRD," Doran scowled. "It was an HRD. Like the Iron Knights, only with bad programming."

"Yes," Sannah said, eyes sparkling.

"Yes?"

"Yes, I'll tell the kids all of them. Every heroic moment, scary moment, and bits of silliness in between. Since I'm taking my place among the Elders, I better do my part in teaching the younger ones all about the great and exciting 'out there.'"

"Growing up isn't so bad after all, huh?"

Sannah smiled faintly. "It'll take some getting used to, but I think I'll manage."

**O( V( O(**

The days passed by swiftly, Sannah's transformation slowly but surely taking place. Her gills had come in after her third day in the water, developing enough so that by the sixth day, she could no longer breathe the surface air without the aid of the algae mats. The skin of her arms were slowly changing into shimmering scales of bronze and brown, and at the end of her second week, on her birthday, her legs began to transform into the elongated fish tail all adult Melodie had.

Sannah braved each new change with a smile, spending the days retelling all of her adventures to the eager group of Melodie that lived in the cave. She was an instant hit, and the chamber of the Pool of Changing was never empty as eager minds sought out the latest story. Often the storytelling became interactive, with Sannah having some of the older ones reenact scenes for the younger ones. Kyrelle helped out in this, laughing along with all the other Melodie as they pretended to run from rockslides, explore ancient ruins, or soaring through the stars in a spaceship.

Despite Sannah's reconnection to her people, the nights, however, were reserved for her and Doran. When the sun set and the evening meal complete, he would enter the chamber and simply sit on the side of the pool, feet dangling in the water. In turn, she would swim to his side and just rest her head on his lap and hold one of his hands while he ran his fingers through her hair with the other. Occasionally they would share a small kiss, squeeze each other's hands. They wouldn't say anything. They didn't have to. Five years as boyfriend and girlfriend, and the five years of friendship before that made it so that they didn't have to.

Gentle gestures of Doran's hand would cause the water of the pool to slosh over her newly formed gills, allowing her to enjoy the comfort his presence for as long as she could. And she definitely needed it.

The transformation was scary to her in many ways. Growing up, leaving behind the life she knew, literally becoming something different. She was more than grateful that Doran was at her side every step of the way.

As the distant echoes of Melodie children recreating one of the scenes from the stories she had told filtered down the cave passageways, Sannah looked up at her childhood best friend with iridescent yellow eyes. The pad of his thumb traced the curve of her cheek, ghosting over her lips in a symbolic kiss, and she nuzzled his thigh.

Things were changing so fast. Some days, she wasn't sure if she was ready to grow up, to be one of the adults of her people. Others, she eagerly awaited the completion of her transformation, a sign that she was ready to do her part for her people. It was a great unknown, becoming an adult, and after everything she had gone through, it shouldn't have been so daunting.

But she couldn't help but reach out to Doran, drawing on his strength on confidence to help steady her nerves.

And as another night waned, and the sun rose outside the caves, the two parted once more.

"See you tonight, Fish-Girl," Doran whispered gently, bending down to hug her.

"Tonight, Adventure Boy," Sannah whispered back. The words were getting harder to speak everyday as her throat changed to better accommodate the underwater language of the adult Melodie.

Doran kissed her forehead and stood, her hands falling back to her side. A reassuring smile was shared between the two of them, and another day began.

**O( VI( O(**

"That's it, Cappricia," Kyrelle said, sitting side-by-side with the Force sensitive Melodie child. "You can feel it now, can't you? The pulse of Yavin Eight?"

"It's all warm and glowy," the six year old said, her little voice awed as she sat still with her eyes closed.

"Is that how you see it?" Kyrelle asked.

Cappricia opened her eyes. "Can't you see the warm and glowy-ness, Relle?"

"I see it differently. Maybe it's because you belong to this planet," Kyrelle answered, patting Cappricia on the back encouragingly.

"What do you see?"

"Well," Kyrelle licked her lips. "You know how Doran and Sannah call me Spirit Girl all the time?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, my big brother could manipulate his presence, the spirits of others, and sense things no one else could. I kind of inherited some of that. When I close my eyes and focus on the planet I can kind of see the after-image of everyone. Where they were and where they will be in the near future. It's not warm and glowy, but more of a world of smoke and possibilities. Errr…did you understand any of that?"

Cappricia shook her head with a giggle.

"Okay. Ummm.. you see glowy warmth, I see shadows."

"Like my shadow?" Cappricia pointed to her shadow on the ground.

They were just outside the cave in a sheltered zone Kyrelle and Doran had created for the Melodie children. Like Doran had said earlier, the two Jedi had helped the older Melodie create a wooden palisade on top of a stone and mud-based wall. The wood had come from the forest, the mud from the lake, and the boulders from the adjacent mountainside. For the first time since the Melodie had been forced into the caves and underground rivers, they had a place to play and live in relative safety in the light of the sun.

A simple wooden gate ran along the length of most of the nearby lake's edge, part-way into the forest, and a little into the mountains, giving the youngsters a diverse array of terrain to explore. There were still some dangers that the walls couldn't protect from, namely the avian avrils. But the older Melodie had long been versed in fending off these threats from the sky and needed little help from the Jedi now that they no longer had to worry about the ground-based threats.

For communication with other Melodie, and in case the Melodie wanted to advance the wall once the Jedi were gone, several wooden gates had been built into the palisade. It had been a tough two weeks of work, but the Melodie were determined to get it done. Break times were interspersed with Sannah's stories, before the young children eagerly went back to work on the wall once more. All were accustomed to working as a team, of looking out for one and other, and there had been few problems.

The hypercomm system Doran had brought was set up in the main caves. Right next to the dejarik board, holographic table-tennis set, and other games transported in the _A Melodie's Treasure_'s cargo hold. There were also samples of food from throughout the galaxy—uj cake courtesy of Dinua and Jintar, Corellian fried ice-cream, and a few of Sannah's favorites. The cargo hold had really been jammed pack, so there was more than enough of everything to go around.

It went without saying that Sannah's people, at least for a while, would be safer and busier than ever before.

"Yeah, like your shadow," Kyrelle answered Cappricia patiently. She enjoyed being the teacher for once, rather than the slow-witted student who had taken forever just to levitate a datapad. "It's all squiggly shadows and smoke to me. You're pretty good, I wasn't able to sense the Force like you until I was ten."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you'll definitely make a great Jedi," Kyrelle beamed.

"Like you and Sannah?"

"Well, more like Sannah," Kyrelle scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "I've still got a long way to go. It's why I'm grateful Sannah and Doran have taught me so much."

"Will I learn a lot too?"

"Definitely," Kyrelle nodded. "As short a time as you'll have out in this galaxy, I have no doubt you'll make a difference."

Cappricia yawned a big yawn, and Kyrelle gently picked the young Melodie up. "Bed time," Cappricia said sleepily, rubbing at her eyes.

"I can see that," Kyrelle giggled. "Come on, I'll take you back to the kelp beds."

Kyrelle cradled the Melodie against her as she took her back into the network of caves. It was a route she had learned well since her stay on Yavin Eight, and being fairly young herself, she had no difficulties navigating the narrow passageways and low ceilings.

She reached a side chamber guarded vigilantly by two older Melodie teens wielding spears. They nodded once at her and stepped aside, granting Kyrelle access to the heart of the Melodie encampment.

Melodie may appear human, but they began their lives as eggs planted on sandy shores. With the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, the egg chamber had been moved to an underground cavern. The cavern itself was like a nursery, where human-shaped babies and Melodie toddlers were cared for by the older Melodie until they were capable of looking after themselves.

"Hi," Kyrelle whispered, nodding at a couple of adult Melodie swimming just off a narrow lip of stone. Like Sannah's Changing chamber, the room was divided up into a segment of solid ground and a segment submerged beneath an underground current of water.

The adult Melodie inclined their heads politely, cradling a newly hatched Melodie lovingly between them. They radiated both happiness and sadness. It would be nearly twenty years before they would be able to hold their child again, with only slight glimpses of them whenever they visited the pool-side. And these parents would be the lucky ones. After a certain age, adult Melodie became incapable of surfacing, so those who had children later in life didn't even have the luxury to visit pool-side.

Kyrelle knelt next to a small alcove in the wall and gently set Cappricia down on a bed of soft kelp and raith furs. "Sleep tight, Cappricia." The human teen whispered, pulling the woven blanket of kelp over the young girl. The Melodie nodded obediently, her young mind filled with Sannah's stories and the dreams of being a Jedi.

**O( VII( O(**

The days continued to go by, the gradual change continuing. Sannah had since exhausted the tales she had to share, Doran had since taken every Melodie in the community up into orbit at least once, and Kyrelle had held countless Jedi training exercises not just for Cappricia, but for the dozens of younger children who wished to be Jedi as a result of Sannah's stories. Also, a new and welcome sight were the bunches of young and teenage Melodie enjoying the sunshine for the first time without fear of being devoured.

Doran ducked once more into the chamber that held the Pool of Changing, smiling wanly as Sannah swam up to the side. They were nearing the end of her transformation. Soon she'd dive underwater and join the rest of the adult community where she would spend the rest of her life. She had come to terms with her change and was now looking forward to what was in store for the rest of her life. In the meantime, it was now time for _him_ to come to terms with the idea of traveling and adventuring without her.

There was a slight splash as Sannah used her newly-formed fishtail to send a small amount of water his way.

"Hello to you too," Doran laughed.

_That's better_. Sannah sent through the Force. With her gills fully developed it was uncomfortable for her to speak Basic in the open air. _Quit looking like you've lost your best friend. I'm still here._

"Yeah," Doran shrugged off the light shirt he had been wearing, as well as his cotton pants, and slipped into the pool with her. He embraced her gently, his eyes closing. "You doing okay, Sannah?"

_Things aren't all that bad. I tried diving earlier today. Pretty fun to do it without a rebreather._

"I wouldn't know," Doran chuckled, fishing out a rebreather from his outfit. "Find anywhere interesting?"

Sannah beamed and nodded. _Come, let me show you._

She vanished underwater, and Doran followed. She was very graceful as she glided through the water, propelling herself with absent flicks of her tail. Occasionally she would glance back over her shoulder, a smile on her face as she led them deeper into the underwater channel.

As they passed beneath a thick arch of gray rock and entered a much roomier expanse of water, it was as if they had entered a whole other world.

Doran's mouth nearly fell open in amazement—which would have been bad as the action would have sent his rebreather tumbling away—at the sight before him. It was an underwater Melodie village, with bright fluorescent coral rising up from the floor and flashes of light as shiny fish darted to and fro. The afternoon sunlight streamed in through small fissures in the rocky cave ceiling, casting narrow shafts of light throughout the underwater oasis. Houses designed from rocks, mud, and coral, almost blended in with the natural, neon-like flora and fauna of the lake.

Wherever Doran looked, there was something to see. In one corner, a red crustacean was conducting an underwater orchestra, with several Melodie singing along. In another, a ray-like creature was coasting through the water with a small gaggle of baby fish riding atop of it. More sea creatures were playing around with a small stream of oxygen bubbles flowing out from a rocky crevice. To top it off, all around the lake adult Melodie by the hundreds were going about their business; though a few did stop to wave at he and Sannah.

"Welcome to Purple-Mountain-Blue-Lake_,_"Sannah's voice filtered through his shock. "My new home."

_ Purple-Mountain-Blue-Lake? _Now it was his turn to send his thoughts through the Force.

"Melodie name their villages after nearby geological features. The nearest villages are Blue-River-Wide-Forest and Clear-Lake-Open-Plains," Sannah gestured in general directions as she said each name.

_Oh?_

"I think they were named so the children would have an easier time remembering and find their homes if they ever became separated."

Doran smiled around his rebreather, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. _You like it down here?_

"It's amazing," Sannah nodded enthusiastically. "I never even imagined it would be so…alive, down here."

_A part of your world now._ Doran sent affectionately.

"Yeah, isn't it neat?" Sannah beamed, spinning around with a flick of her tail. "Oh look, my mom and dad are coming up to see you."

Doran glanced over to see two adult Melodie push their way through the weak currents towards them. He raised his hand in greeting, sensing the very weak Force potential from both of Sannah's parents. _I guess I get to meet your parents finally?_

Sannah emitted a giggle, which sounded almost musical in the aqua and blue environment they were now in. "Yup."

_I shouldn't address them as Mister and Missus Fish-Girl then?_

Sannah rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him. "I've already told them how crazy you are, so go ahead."

The two adult Melodie finally reached them.

"Jedi Knight Sarkin-Tainer," a Melodie that was no doubt Sannah's father said warmly. His other arm was around the waist of Sannah's mother. "Thank you for taking care of our little girl out there. It is hard enough for a Melodie to leave their children on the surface, but to let them go off-world…."

Doran, not exactly sure how he was going to communicate with the Melodie, decided to let Sannah be his translator.

"Oh, Doran says that it was no trouble and that…that we took care of each other," Sannah's voice hitched at the last words, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "He says that we've watched each others' backs, gotten into all sorts of scrapes, but that he has no regrets and wishes that we could be together for much, much, longer…" Sannah trailed off to swoop around to face her boyfriend. Removing his rebreather, she gently kissed him, her eyes shimmering with emotion. She parted, placing his rebreather back, and resting her forehead against his. "Trying to embarrass us in front of my parents, Adventure Boy?"

_Not my fault you can't lie through a Force bond,_ Doran sent gently, rubbing her arm.

Sannah planted a quick kiss on his cheek, then swooped back around to his side, a small bit of color on her face. "Sorry about that, mommy, daddy."

Both of Sannah's parents smiled sadly at her. "It's okay. It is obvious you care for each other a great deal."

"We do," Sannah said in a quiet, almost little-girl voice as she leaned back against Doran. "He's my best friend."

"Will he be able to join us for dinner?"

"Can he eat underwater?"

"You wouldn't be the first Melodie who's gone off-planet and come back with a friend," Sannah's mom laughed. "Don't worry, we have a way."

Sannah's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "This better not be one of the 'test your daughter's boyfriend with a humiliating tradition' type of things. He already thinks himself a poor, unfortunate soul with all the misadventures we got ourselves into."

"She found out so easily, dear," Sannah's father said with mock disappointment.

"Just invite him along," Sannah's mother sighed.

"Doran?" Sannah looked to her boyfriend, her hand tightly holding his.

_Sure,_ Doran smiled. _Lead the way._

**O( VIII( O(**

It was many hours later when Doran pulled himself back out of the Pool of Changing. Sannah's musical laughter continued on in his mind as she rested her head back onto his lap. She was almost deliriously happy and content, emitting a small sigh as she closed her eyes.

He couldn't blame her. Dinner with her family had been interesting to say the least. He had discovered that Sannah was a distant cousin of Lyric, and a just as distant cousin to Cappricia. Of all the Melodie on the planet, her very large extended family was the only one with the occasional Force-sensitive child popping up. Of course, her large extended family just happened to be at the dinner as well, and Sannah regaled them all with yet another telling of some of her adventures.

They had solved his breathing issues by pulling out a set of transparasteel panels, a water pump, and a small oxygen generator. The moment he and Sannah realized what the older Melodie's solution was, they weren't able to stop themselves from smiling. The panels were set up around him, the pump was activated, an air pocket was created, and the oxygen generator ensured that he had plenty of air to breath—they had essentially created a 'human' tank as opposed to a fish tank. Complete with Melodie pressing themselves up against the side of the chamber to ogle at the human.

The dinner had been lively, with Doran barely able to keep up with the animated conversations all around. The Melodie were a highly sociable and tight-knit peoples; traits caused by their growing up and looking out for one and other as children. He answered countless questions about the galaxy, about his relationship with Sannah, and about the ship he had forgotten he had parked in _their_ lake. He met some of Sannah's older cousins, aunts and uncles, and a wide variety of fish they kept as 'pets.' It was definitely a unique experience and he was all for visiting them again. It was an added bonus that both her parents seemed to tolerate him at least, though Sannah reassured him that they were more than thrilled.

But like all good things, the dinner had come to an end, and Sannah swam him back up to the surface.

_You wouldn't mind, would you? Living in a human tank for the rest of your life? _Sannah sent, half in jest. The family dinner had just been a reminder that, while she might have a place underwater, she'd still be leaving her best friend behind.

"I could build a fish tank for you on the _Treasure_," Doran said in turn, running his fingers across the faint webbing that existed between her own fingers.

Sannah whimpered, reflexively squeezing his leg. _It's not fair. I shouldn't have to give you up as a price to become an adult. If that's the cost, then I don't want to grow up."_

"But it's time we have our own, separate adventures, I guess," Doran murmured.

_Adventures aren't fun without you._

"Right back at you, Fish-Girl."

Sannah continued to cling to his leg, letting Doran wash the waters of the Pool of Changing over her gills. _I'm almost done with my transformation. Just a few internal stuff that need to finish developing. A day or two at the most._

"Yeah," Doran exhaled.

_Stay for just a bit longer?_

He glanced down and saw pleading yellow eyes looking back up at him. He bent down and kissed her. "Of course. But only for a few more days. Kyrelle and I need to get Cappricia over to Ossus after all."

_I love you,_ Sannah sent, silvery tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I love you too, Fish-Girl. Thanks for making these past years such a blast," Doran murmured, his thumb brushing a tear away. "You'll be fine here. You have your family, all the little ones hanging onto your every word, the big ones too. I'll be traveling around with Kyrelle and whoever else we'll end up picking up, visiting every once and a while to give you a new story to tell. And, when I'm old, with crazy white hair and that mad look in my eyes, I'll come back here and set up my retirement home."

Sannah emitted a choked laugh, resting her head back down on his lap and hugging his legs. _Promise?_

"You keep having me make such easy promises, Sannah," Doran ran a hand absently through her hair. "I promise."

**O( IX( O(**

When it was finally time to depart, Kyrelle wasn't sure who was saddest, Doran, Sannah, or herself. They had been on Yavin Eight for over a month, and the last day just seemed to sneak up out of nowhere. One moment she was playing another game of 'the Adventures of the Melodie Jedi' and commanding her army of young Melodie pretending to be Jedi, and the next she was getting ready to go and leave her 'big sister' behind. Kyrelle hated goodbyes, she knew that now. And this goodbye would be among her all time most despised.

She could feel Doran's support and it helped her spirits somewhat. Trying her best to clear her mind and keep from crying, the fourteen year old Jedi entered the Pool of Changing chamber next. Sannah was there, waiting with red-rimmed eyes.

_Hi,_ Sannah sent.

"Hi," Kyrelle whispered, sitting down by the poolside and drawing her legs to her chest.

_This is it, huh._

Kyrelle just nodded, her words getting stuck in her throat.

Sannah reached out of the water, to touch her bare feet. _I'm definitely going to miss having these._

Kyrelle couldn't help but laugh and sob at the same time, furiously swiping away at her tears, and then taking a hold of Sannah's hand. "What's it like, having a giant fish tail?"

_Different,_ Sannah sent after a moment of contemplation. The hand-holding made it possible for her to send complex thoughts. _Before my mind was wired for fish tail, I kept wanted to wiggle my toes and stretch my legs out. But now, it's very hard to even remember what having feet feel like. I remember running, walking, dancing with Doran, and all those other feet-related activities, but I don't remember what they __felt__ like, what I needed to do to get my feet moving._

"That's kind of sad."

_Not really, _Sannah shrugged. _It's probably a biological thing for us Melodie. Part of growing up, I guess. We have flippers now, no sense remembering how to control feet._

Kyrelle took that in with a nod. "You'll be fine here?"

Sannah nodded. _Will __you_ _be fine out there?_

"It won't be the same without you, Sannah." Kyrelle sniffled.

_I know, Spirit Girl. I know. You know Doran will look out for you, though, right?_

"Uh huh. And I'll make sure he's okay too."

_Thanks,_ Sannah said faintly. _Did you bring my old bag?_

Kyrelle pulled out a sack of some of Sannah's belongings and handed it over. "This?"

Sannah fished around inside it for a moment, and then pulled out a deactivated vibroblade. _Here, this is yours now._

Kyrelle gasped, quickly shaking her head. "I can't take that! Mandalore gave it to you."

_And now I'm giving it to you, _Sannah's thoughts were but a whisper. _I'm trusting you to watch out for Adventure Boy, Kyre. Don't ever let him travel alone. Make sure he always has someone looking out for him. Please."_

Swallowing painfully, Kyrelle accepted the vibroblade with an air of amazed reverence. "I will, Sannah. I swear I'll protect him and make sure he stays alive no matter what."

_You stay alive too, Spirit Girl. You're every bit as important to me as he is. I only wish I could be there when you finally make a full Jedi Knight, when you get an apprentice, and have all sorts of adventures of your own._

Kyrelle nodded fervently, tears now flowing unchecked as she once again hugged her legs. "I'll come back and tell you about every one of them."

_I can't wait. I heard you turned most of the younger ones into honorary Jedi. _Sannah said with a bright smile.

"They saw me training Cappricia a little while back and wanted to join in," Kyrelle ducked her head. "They're now all accomplished at meditation and basic lightsaber moves."

_I know, they were so eager to show me,_ Sannah gestured to a pile of sticks that doubled as lightsaber stacked up in one corner.

Kyrelle looked away. "Look after yourself, okay?

_I will. Kyrelle._

"Yeah?"

Sannah smiled tenderly, using the Force to send her love and strength to the younger girl. _The Force will be with you, always. If you ever need a bit of support, just reach out to me and I'll be there for you._

Kyrelle exhaled shakily. "The same goes for you, 'kay? You ever need Doran or me, just reach out for us."

_Goodbye,_ Sannah's thought was nearly inaudible.

"Until our next visit, at least," Kyrelle abandoned her position to reach into the pool of water and pull Sannah in for a tight hug. "Goodbye, but only for now."

**O( X( O(**

Most of the Melodie children joined Kyrelle and Doran as Sannah reached the final stage of her metamorphosis. Several adult Melodie had swam up to the surface and now formed an honor-guard around Sannah as the Jedi waved at her friends.

_Goodbye, Doran, Kyrelle!_ Sannah sent as she began to submerge herself for the final time.

"See ya, Fish-Girl," Doran said, his voice suspiciously hoarse. Kyrelle was leaning into him, happy and sad tears mixing as they rolled down her cheeks.

Sannah just nodded, sinking lower and lower into the pool until just the top of her head showed. She appeared to be looking up at the crowd from beneath the water, yellow eyes scanning each of them. Trying to commit their faces to memory. It would be a long while before she resurfaced.

"_Are you ready?_" One of the adult Melodie asked kindly.

_ "Yeah." _Sannah reached out with the Force one last time, bombarding both Kyrelle and Doran with emotions, memories, everything she had become in her travels outside of Yavin 8.

Her entire life seemed to pass through her eyes, being shared with her closest friends at the same time. From being discovered by Anakin and Tahiri, to the lessons on Yavin Four and the _Errant Venture._ To the adventures Doran told her, and the ones she later shared with him. Meeting Kyrelle, venturing beyond the Outer Rim and to the nearby satellite galaxy. Seeing not just her planet from orbit, but the Yavin system, and then the entire galaxy in all its rotating splendor. The good times, the scary times, the sad times, and the bad.

She may have only been on the galactic stage for less than a decade of her life, but she had definitely left her mark. She had been involved in the stabilization of Bakura. The Mandalorian Death Watch and Protectors were whole once more. Jedi of the Republic Era had new purpose thanks to her and Doran. She saved a planet from a crashing ship full of dangerous cargo, liberated a harem of women from an evil warlord, cleansed a planet ravaged by disease, and so much more. She had done more in a single lifetime out of water than many would ever get to experience.

She felt the love and care from Doran and Kyrelle, and it emboldened her to go on. She truly had no regrets.

Her gills fluttered, and her fish-tail swished in the clear pool of water. She turned back to the older Melodie and nodded once. _"I'm ready, take me home."_

The adult Melodie all retreated from the surface. Most of them had been her own protectors and teachers before Anakin and Tahiri had taken her from the planet. As was the Melodie tradition, they had returned once more to aid her transition from child to adult, guides who would officially take her from the Pool of Changing to the Melodie village at the bottom of the lake.

As an adult Melodie herself now, someday soon Sannah would take their place and be that guide and teacher to the next Melodie who came of age. Sannah flipped herself around in the water focusing on the adult Melodie swimming ahead. She followed them further and further away from the surface, leaving behind one life behind to begin another. In a way, being a grown up was another adventure all on its own for her. It may have taken her a rather roundabout way to get to this moment, but she had finally arrived nonetheless.

Sannah smiled bravely as the village came into view, and swam on. This was it. She had reached her destiny.

**O( End ( O(**

**A\N: **Hope everyone enjoyed the mushiness of this chapter...Next (first of next month)we go to Denon and the Jedi Temple there to meet Seha Dorvald and her merry band of OC friends. We're getting closer to the sequel so the final four chapters of this interlude will start including plots that will continue into A Fate Unseen. (Curiously, post-NJO Jedi Order has many more female heroes of Valin/Jaina's age groups who actually survive the canon events and remain sane than males. For example, Vestara Khai, Syal and Myri Antilles, Tekli, Allana, Yaqeel, Jesmin...I guess recycling the old heroes meant that not much time was needed to be spent on new ones. After the Solos fade from the stage, Ben Skywalker becomes the main focus... food for thought.)

Now...I had planned to leave a message, something along the lines of me being tired of writing Star Wars and deciding to abandon the sequel and leave things as they are. You know, because of how time consuming these things are and the busy-ness of real life. I would then have elaborated on how a writer's block evolved into pure disinterest and then let everyone go with an apology of sorts. I mean, I've already spent nearly two years now dabbling in my little universe and I am getting kind of tired of it. As an ending to my little statement, I would have then pointed out that it was also the first day of the fourth month, along with the implications such a day brings...but I figured that it would cause too much drama for a prank (and the fact that it's probably past that day for readers on the other side of the globe), so I abstained from participating in such a time-honored tradition.

In actuality, I'm on chapter nine of the sequel and things are going just fine.

Please leave a review for this chapter if you so desire.


	6. Chapter 6

Fate Remade

_A Jedi's greatest power comes not from size or from physical strength. It comes from understanding the Force. As part of your training you will learn to build your confidence and belief through practice._

-Tionne Solusar

**[[ I ]]**

The Jedi Temple on Denon, Denon being the new capital of the Galactic Alliance, was supposed to be a temporary place. It was meant to be a sanctuary for the Jedi members of the High Council, and the myriad of Jedi who reported to them. A place of rest in between missions or political sessions.

The building had neither the grandiose spires, nor striking outline of the now ruined Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Instead, it looked akin to several silver pyramids stacked off-center to one and other. Not that anyone would be able to find the unique building in any case. The relatively modest structure all but disappeared in the shadows of the Coruscant-esque towering buildings surrounding it, occupying a relatively sheltered area in the city's lower reaches.

There was no reason for it to be a grand and magnificent copy, for it to be able to house a good portion of the Jedi Order, or represent one of the most ancient and mystical orders of the galaxy. When it was created a year after the war, it was meant to be a pre-fab meeting place for Jedi, a placeholder until Coruscant could be reoccupied. Later, as the years wore on, and it became more and more likely that it would be decades before Coruscant could truly be reclaimed, the building became more permanent. The collection of pre-fab shelters was scrapped and an 'official' Jedi Temple was constructed in its place. The Temple was _meant_ to serve as an embassy or diplomatic mission. But like most things regarding the New Jedi Order, that didn't necessarily go as planned.

Like its original purpose, the Denon Temple still housed the many Jedi between assignments. But in the years that followed its founding, the Denon Jedi Temple fast became more of a 'Jedi hang-out-informal-school-and-family-activities' place, than a place of solemn reverence and business. The function of the Denon Temple differed so greatly from what had once occurred within the Coruscanti Jedi Temple, that the surviving Jedi of the Old Order had trouble even comparing the two on any level.

One of the most unique things about the Denon Temple was that its stewards and grounds-keepers were not Force sensitive at all, but everyday people—often refugees, war veterans, or 'reformed' smugglers—given jobs in return for their service to the Order. Allowing non-Force sensitives into a Jedi institution had been a highly controversial move by the Jedi of the High Council at the time, but it was pointed out that if Yuuzhan Vong could base their entire government off of the tenets followed by the Jedi, then why couldn't every day people do it too?

It had proven a wise choice. There were several hundred such stewards and grounds-keepers caring for the temple, each with their own unique backgrounds and skill-sets.

Since the start of the program, not only had the Jedi been able to pick up a few extra abilities and cultural knowledge not taught in basic Jedi training, but they were also benefiting from them as well. These non-Force sensitives saw the galaxy differently than the Jedi, and their point-of-view greatly broadened the minds and challenged set beliefs of the Jedi who stayed at the temple.

Equally helpful was the fact that those with weaker Force aptitudes no longer felt as useless and inferior to their peers. They learned how to live without the Force first—forming their own identity outside of being a Jedi—before learning to use what little Force potential they did have.

The format of employing non-Force sensitive workers and teachers to help broaden the minds of the Jedi was surpassing every expectation, and there was debate as to whether or not to open similar 'temples' elsewhere; companion-schools, in a way, to the standard training a Jedi received at the four praxeums spread throughout the galaxy.

The Denon Temple had also come to provide a stable environment for some of the older Force-sensitive war orphans. These orphans had been found on the various travels of the other Jedi and brought to the temple to live a safe and sheltered life. Most orphans were too old to begin basic training, but still young enough to want to be Jedi. Unfortunately, their age meant that learning Force abilities would come harder than most. Frustration and disappointment were common feelings between many of them. Add to the fact that they were going through their turbulent teenage years, and that not all were powerful in the Force, and it looked as if everything was a dark side disaster in the making.

Yet the Jedi Temple's extremely informal, family-like atmosphere meant that _all_ of these young Jedi-in-training received the support and care they needed. And five years after the end of the war, the positive atmosphere was still as strong as ever. Many of those who had started out at the Temple had even gone on to join their peers at the Jedi Praxeums in Ossus, Yavin IV, Dathomir, or Corellia.

"That's okay," Uldir Lochett said supportively, removing the pieces of water-balloon that had dropped down on him. "You were able to levitate them for ten seconds. That's ten seconds longer than what I can do."

"You won't mind if we try it again?" Twelve year old Jedi initiate Seha Dorvald—discovered by Jacen in the undercity of Coruscant and brought to Denon almost a year earlier—asked shyly, ducking her head in embarrassment.

"I'm already soaking wet, why not," Uldir chuckled. "Klin-Fa, if you could start them off."

Klin-Fa, his long-time partner in crime and girlfriend, gestured, and a series of water balloons rose up out of a nearby bucket. "Remember, the trick to keeping them in the air is focus. You want to imagine them up in the air, floating."

The four young students being taught all nodded, and one by one, they took control of a water balloon from the Jedi Knight.

"Let the Force flow through your hands and to those balloons," Klin-Fa said.

Uldir, wearing a pair of swim trunks, sat patiently in his chair as the four maneuvered the balloons over him. With the Yuuzhan Vong War over, the need for rescue pilots had decreased rapidly, as had his desire to continue to put himself in harm's way. He and Klin-Fa now called the Denon Temple their home, coordinating 'classes' for both the Force-sensitive children as well as the children of the non-Force sensitive workers. Strangely enough, Klin-Fa took to the role of teacher with as much zeal as she took to hunting down Yuuzhan Vong. 'There was nothing like seeing grins and smiles on the faces of children when they learned that they could do what had once been impossible for them,' she had told him with an accomplished grin on her own face.

The water balloon exercise was something Klin-Fa had developed. 'Much more fun than levitating rocks,' she had said. Of course, a part of her enjoyment of the lesson might have had to do with the fact that Uldir spent most of it in his swimwear. But it was just like the both of them, coming up with unorthodox lessons to teach the children orthodox things.

A deluge of cold water shook him out of his thoughts, and he involuntarily shivered again.

"Sorry!" Seha squeaked, her flushed cheeks matching the long strands of auburn hair that partially obscured her face.

As if on cue, the others lost their focus, and the other water balloons plopped down over him as well.

"Twelve seconds," Klin-Fa said. "An improvement."

"Of only two seconds." Twelve year old Niko Enrader, another human, looked disgusted with himself.

Klin-Fa arched an eyebrow. "Two seconds could mean the difference between life and death, so don't knock it, Niko."

"I lost my concentration when Seha made that human-noise," Bothan initiate Loana Ven'nari glared at the red-haired girl.

"I'm sorry!" Seha repeated, looking down. Being one of 'Jacen Solo's finds,' someone the Force had guided him to, a lot was expected of her from some of her fellow students. Yet she was no more capable than any of the others. Inwardly, she had long accepted she'd never be one of those 'great' Jedi. But she at least wanted to be good at _something_ Force-related. It was moments like this when she wondered why the Force had allowed Jacen to save her. Why save someone who was just going to be a waste of space and resources?

"Loana," Uldir said sternly. "You know the rules. You're _all_ learning here. And Seha, you did nothing wrong."

"You think you can levitate a balloon longer?" Klin-Fa asked lightly, playing the role of 'good cop'.

"I can," Loana nodded.

"Okay," Klin-Fa levitated another balloon over to the Bothan. "Let's see how long you can keep it up."

The Bothan exhaled and focused her eyes on the small object. With a nod, Klin-Fa released control of it over to the young Bothan, and the group watched in silence as it floated back up over Uldir. Seconds passed, Loana's outstretched hand beginning to shake.

"Easy," Klin-Fa coached softly, blending the words with the Force. "Easy. It requires a gentle touch, that's all."

The hand stopped shaking, but Loana's forehead furrowed as the Bothan began to draw on more and more of her concentration. A few more seconds passed before she gasped and opened her eyes. The balloon fell, but this time Uldir managed to reach out and grab it before it splashed all over him.

All eyes turned to Klin-Fa.

"Twenty seconds, a new record. You did great."

"Told you," Loana said.

"Go on and head to lunch early," Klin-Fa smirked. "You earned it."

The other three students looked envious as the Bothan left the room with her head held high.

"Alright you three, Loana set a new record for herself, and I know you all can do the same."

"[Isn't Uldir going to get sick with all the water we're dumping on him?]" Duro initiate Chanil Zhul asked.

"Don't worry about that," Klin-Fa winked. "I'll…"

"Klin-Fa," Uldir sighed. "Keep things…."

"Yeah, yeah, kid-friendly, I know." Klin-Fa said, rolling her eyes rebelliously.

Their students just shared expressions of mock-disgust.

"Come on then," Klin-Fa pulled out more of the water balloons. "A couple more tries. If you set a new record for yourself, you're free to go early."

**[[ II ]]**

"Cheer up, Seha," Uldir encouraged, walking out of the classroom. "You'll get it eventually. Even if you don't, it's no big deal. From what ol' Poorf has been telling me, you have a knack for understanding politics. 'A real organized mind', he said."

Seha just ducked her head further, a slight flush coming to her cheeks. "You don't have to try to make me feel better, Master Uldir." She said in a quiet voice. "I know I won't ever live up to what the others think I should be. I'm okay with that. I never wanted to be anyone special anyways."

"Hey, but you're not a nobody either," Uldir said with a small frown. "You know that the staff of this temple cares about you, right?"

Seha nodded fervently. "I'm more than grateful for that. It beats living in the Coruscanti sewers by kilometers. It's just, I think I'm relieved that I'm not any good at telekinesis, sword fighting, and the other basic Jedi stuff. I'd rather be no one special than someone everyone turns to for answers I probably won't have."

"Is there anything about the lessons you do like?" Uldir asked curiously.

"Uh huh," Seha appeared to be a bit more animated. "Exploring the underground parts of the old city with Jedi Nalual and my friends is fun. Jedi Nalual is teaching us how to see in the Force different than others. How to envision our surroundings not as they are physically, but in the Force."

"Leave it to a Jedi to have as their idea of fun spelunking in creature-infested caverns," Uldir rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a Jedi yet," Seha commented, her hands in her pockets.

"Believe me, Seha. You're much more of a Jedi than I am," Uldir said supportively. "You may not think it now, but being a Jedi involves much more than levitating balloons or being able to beat up our sparring droids. It doesn't matter how powerful or weak you are in the Force, or if you rub shoulders with Jedi Masters on a daily basis. When it comes down to it, all that matters is your heart and that bright mind of yours. You don't want to be anyone special, but even I can see that you want to be a Jedi more than anything. "

Seha bowed her head, nodding silently.

"And you'll be a Jedi, Seha. No matter how long or hard a journey, you'll be one."

"Thank you," she whispered in a tiny voice.

"Not a problem," Uldir smiled reassuringly. "You have Dunrik's medical lessons next?"

"Uh huh, but in the afternoon. Master Clighal is staying here for some political event and is dropping in to help teach the class," Seha said. She then made a face. "Although I'm not good with healing with the Force either so I'm pretty sure she'll be wasting her time on me. I'll take a bacta patch and some medi-tape any day."

"Stranger things have happened, Seha. Don't count yourself out just yet."

"Thanks," Seha said.

The two parted ways at the main dining commons.

After stocking up on food, Seha instinctively sought out her friends. From first, second, and third looks, it was clear that her own clique would never win 'most popular of the temple' award any time soon. They were about the oddest group in the room, a combination of 'barely-Force-sensitives' and non-Force sensitives.

"Seha!" They waved her over.

As shy as she was, she brightened and brought her food-laden tray with her. "Hi," she said softly.

"Glad you could join us." The de facto leader of their group, a sixteen year old barely-Force-sensitive Zeltron who went by the name 'Raxi' greeted. Normally a Zeltron would never be considered an outcast, but her trusting nature and natural physical attractiveness had caused her to be greatly hurt several times over. She deliberately distanced herself from others, but at the same time was protective of their little group.

"Sorry I was late," Seha said sheepishly, ducking her head so that her hair fell in front of her eyes again.

"Blasted water balloons?" Grumbled the Weequay member of their group, Ak-obi Ohnaka. Non-Force sensitive, he was the son of a refugee family that had found work at the temple. Unfortunately, species wide-prejudices that normally saw the Weequay as thugs or murderers meant that very few others trusted Weequay. And with plenty of people still looking to blame others for their misfortune, the galaxy was still a very dangerous place. Their little group of outcast was truly his only refuge. "Don't see the point in mind-lifting balloons. Gas and strings do the same job."

"Once we graduate from water balloons, we're supposed to be able to eventually do things like lift entire starfighters," twelve-year old Miraluka-human hybrid Siare Amah said, his youth showing in the eager way he spoke. He was barely-Force-sensitive, an unfortunate complication created by his mixed parentage. This meant that he was oft-times truly blind, unable to use his actual eyes _or_ the Force to see. He took it with great stride though, cheerfully chiming that he couldn't miss what he never had in the first place. "I'm just guessing, but lifting starfighters would probably be a pretty cool thing to see."

The other seven at the table just groaned. They continued to eat, trading stories and jokes as the mess-hall gradually emptied. Once the food was done, Ral Anise, one of the other non-Force-sensitives in the group, wiped his mouth and stood.

"Hey, after Master Clighal's lessons, do you want to explore the old city again? It's been almost a month since we last went down there and I want to see where that old tram-line leads to." Like Ak-obi, Ral was a refugee child. Unlike Ak-obi, he was an orphan. He was fortunate, though, to sit next to someone he saw as an older brother, non-Force sensitive eighteen year old Trey Courser.

"You just want to see if you can get it going again, Gear Nut," Trey laughed, lightly nudging his adoptive younger brother.

"{Tram line big! Lots of time needed. Many scary things in the tunnels?}"

"Probably," Seha nodded to their table's Jawa member, Akazzi.

The last member of their group, dark-skinned, slightly-Force-sensitive Indare Haz, shook her head. "We'd like to, but we can't. After lunch, me and Ak-obi are taking up that internship with the Galactic Alliance Starfighter Command."

"And I'm joining the GA engineer corps," Trey said, running a hand through his eternally messy blonde hair. "With all the restoration projects they have going on, they need tech experts. And I can't think of a better way of making a difference in the galaxy than by signing up with one of their teams."

"Really?" Multiple voices asked in surprise. "You're really going to do it?"

Aki-obi, Indare, and Trey all nodded together.

"We just got word that our applications have been accepted." Trey said almost apologetically. "Our shuttle leaves this afternoon."

"And we all know the Jedi isn't for me," Indare, a seventeen year old Chev, added. "I don't want to stick around here any longer, no offense to the rest of you all. Besides, I figured that my Force-sensitivity can give me an edge and keep me alive longer than most."

"And I want the galaxy to know the Weequay as something else other than thugs," Ak-obi said gruffly. "Maybe if I become good enough to join Rogue Squadron, the other refugees will lay off my parents."

"Good luck," Seha said genuinely.

"Thanks, Se," Indare replied faintly. "You just hold onto your dreams, while Ak-obi and I chase ours."

"I will," Seha nodded.

"Keep on using your head, Ral," Trey said supportively to the younger teen. "Show these Jedi that the Force isn't everything. Raxi, you'll take care of the rest, right?"

"Of course," the blue-haired, pink-skinned teen flashed him a grin. "Don't worry. We'll just go exploring the old city without you guys. Don't come crying to us when you've learned you missed out on some exciting find."

"Right," Ak-obi said with mock grumpiness. "Because the last time we ended up sludging through sewage in search of a mythical droid foundry was so enjoyable."

"We'll find it one day," Siare said optimistically.

"Sure," Indare mussed the almost-teen's sandy-colored hair. "That'll be the day when Akazzi actually showers. Oh, frang, look at the time. I didn't realize it was that late."

"You have to go?" Raxi asked sadly.

"Yeah, sorry. Ak-obi?"

"With you," he said in his usual curt sentences. The three oldest members of the table rose. Ak-obi bowed politely. "May Quay watch over all of you."

"Take care of yourselves, kids," Indare patted each of them on the arm on her way out the door.

"See you around the galaxy," Trey gave them a two finger salute.

"Bye!"

"Good luck!"

When the older trio was gone, the remaining members of the group looked at each other in distress. They were a tight-knit group and the older three had been like the brothers and sister they never had.

"Raxi, are we still going exploring?" Ral asked in a soft voice.

"Of course," Raxi recovered with a swoon-inducing smile. "There's no way you can stop a Zeltron from having fun. And if you're my friends, nothing's going to stop you guys from having fun either."

Seha smiled faintly in response, focusing her gaze on her food. She felt the same way. They were her friends, her family, and as long as she was with them it didn't really matter what they were doing; fun was almost always to be had.

**[[ III ]]**

"We all set?" Raxi said energetically, holding up a glowstick in front of the entrance to Denon's Old City.

"Yup, got the Vong metal and duracrete eaters in my pack," Ral patted the heavy knapsack he was carrying, which seemed to squirm and writhe at his touch. "Brought extra since I'm carrying Trey's load now. But let's see dead ends and cave-ins get in our way."

"And I've got the extra rations," soft-spoken Seha said, holding up her own sack with a small smile. "Filling in for Indare."

"{Akazzi has the light sticks and firesticks,}" the Jawa added, gesturing to the pack filled to the brim with glowsticks and flares.

"I've got the maps," Siare said brightly. "Though why you insisted the blind guy carry them still has me confused."

"Oh shush," Raxi rolled her eyes. "I know your Force-enhanced echolocation has you seeing things differently than us, but would you rather carry the food bag? If Akazzi was a meter taller, you two would be the same height."

"Blind, not stupid," Siare shook his head. "Don't know how you manage to carry it each time, Seha. That thing's heavy."

"It's a fun work out," Seha chirped, looking slightly abashed at her own cheer.

"Alright," Raxi pushed back the grate that led into the depths of Denon. "Let's see what the Old City has in store for us this time."

The Old City formed the bedrock of the current cities of Denon, a place that had once been in use millennia ago, but was built atop of as Denon continued to grow and grow. It was not entirely vacant; the very poor and the not-so-legally inclined carved out their own little havens in the sunless world. But most of Denon had definitely forgotten about it as their buildings above continued to reach up towards the sky.

Despite it being called the 'Old City' and having a reputation for being little more than an ancient, run-down ruin, there were still many indicators that the life in the 'new' city above was gradually filtering back down to the very foundation of the planet. The pitch black, abyssal 'sky' that loomed above the wrecks of buildings was occasionally lit up by the trails of a shuttle or speeder zooming through the air like comets. Some holo-signs were still functioning, flickering on and off and adding an extra dimension to the otherwise grimy streets and smog-filled air. Refugee camps were scattered throughout the Old City, growing in size almost weekly.

For the young group of friends, some of their first lessons in the Force had occurred in this city. Blind Jedi of the Republic Order, Deran Nalual, had taken them all down into the Old City to attune their senses to the Force. Sight, taste, hearing, touch, smell, they had taken turns shunting their meager Force abilities to enhance each of their senses one at a time.

She was one of the reasons why Siare's self-confidence was as high as it was. If even a blind Jedi could survive in the turbulent galaxy, he too could survive and make a difference as well.

The non-Force sensitives, Ral Anise, Ak-obi, and Trey Courser, had joined the lessons, learning how to work alongside Jedi and augment their abilities with their own instincts and intuition.

It was also when they had first run into Akazzi, their Jawa friend. Smugglers had used the poor Jawa as target practice and the group had felt his distress in the Force. After rescuing him and nursing him back to health, the Jawa had stuck with them ever since.

Needless to say, the Old City was never a place absent of excitement and adventure.

One by one, Raxi, Siare, Ral, Seha, and Akazzi each ducked into an old ventilation shaft and slid the short distance to the opposite end; where one of the primary refugee camps was situated. Pulling themselves to their feet, they soon realized that they weren't the only ones from the temple present.

"Other Jedi," Ral noted in a low voice. There were two such Jedi standing with their instructor, Deran Nalual. One was a Rodian teenager dressed in all black, with a fresh, wicked looking gash caked with dried blood on one cheek. The other was easily recognizable as Yavin Four's Jedi representative on the High Council, Jedi Master Octa Ramis.

"The two with Instructor Nelual seemed distressed," Siare murmured reading the situation in the Force.

"There's another Jedi in the tent they're standing in front of," Seha whispered after a moment of concentration. "She's badly hurt."

"Guess we can do the exploring another day," Raxi said grimly. "Looks like they might need an extra pair of hands, or five. Let's see if we can help."

As the group of young teens drew nearer, they could hear the Rodian emit a hiss of anger. "[If the Denon security forces can't handle it, then _I_ will. I'll be doing these refugees a favor, wiping out those sleemos_._]"

"But you will also be creating a power vacuum this area can ill-afford to have. Without that criminal syndicate operating in this area, crime will be much worse than it already is," Deran said patiently. "The Colony is the closest thing these refugees have to an organized government. They organize food-shipments, medical care, and set up shelters."

"[And in exchange they bleed the refugees dry of every credit they have. Some of the refugee camps are just a step away from being slave-labor camps,]" the Rodian argued. "[And now that they're distributing that new drink, they're turning the other camps into addict-filled cesspools. Something has to be done. If not, Maika won't be the last Jedi they'll hurt.]"

There was a powerful surge of Force energy, and the Jedi all glanced towards the tent. A dark-haired teen staggered out from the tent, looking pale and gaunt, with a blood soaked bandaged wrapped around her stomach. She swayed for a bit, taking in several deep breaths and forcing out a smile. "Hey, do you mind? Injured person trying to get some rest here!"

"[Are _you _out of your mind!]" The Rodian rushed over to the wounded Jedi and quickly slung one of her arms over his shoulder as she sagged. "[Lie back down before you bleed out!]"

"It was just a super-heated metal slug tearing apart my insides," Maika tried to sound cheerful, even as her face tightened up in agony. "Only hurts like blazes. But I wasn't going to lie there and listen to you rant as if I'd already rejoined the Force. I took that shot to save your life, not make you insane. Remember what Master Kel taught us. Emotions good, uncontrolled emotions equal bucket load of trouble. Don't make me the reason you go full dark and end up like Jalinae."

"[Fine, no killing sprees. Enter a healing trance now, please.]"

While the concerned Rodian fussed over his injured partner, Deran turned sightless eyes onto the group of eavesdroppers. "Rali Xici, Siare Amah, Seha Dorvald, Ral Anise, Akazzi, good timing."

"Instructor Nalual, please, just Raxi," the Zeltron groaned.

"As I told you before, I'll call you Raxi when you call me Deran," the blind Togruta laughed softly. She paused when she realized the group wasn't as large as it usually was. "The others?"

"Graduated," Raxi said faintly, she soberly gestured to the other Jedi, trying to change the topic. "What's going on, Instructor?"

Deran gazed off into the distance with her sightless eyes and emitted a heavy sigh. "Trouble, or an opportunity, maybe both. Master Ramis, would you care to do the honors? I need to help heal your stubborn apprentices."

"Of course," Octa said with a wry shake of her head. She eyed Raxi and those with the Zeltron, her gaze ending on the red-haired Seha. "Interesting bunch, but if Deran thinks you're up for it, I do too."

"Thank you, Master Ramis," Raxi said solemnly.

"About three weeks ago, a new alcoholic beverage began appearing in a few of the camps," Octa began. "It's highly addictive, causing prolonged sensations of both euphoria and pleasure. It dulls pain at the same time, making it extremely tempting for many of the refugees. Some have already spent their entire savings just to have one more bottle. The drink's popularity quickly spread to the outlaying camps and residential areas of the Old City. Before we knew it, several tens of thousands of refugees down here have become dependent on it and enter a steep depression if deprived of it. Maika, Toile, and myself managed to track the distribution of the drink to a criminal syndicate that refers to itself as the 'Colony'."

"{Why Colony?}" Akazzi tilted his head to the side. "{Akazzi finds name odd. Who are they?}"

"As far as we can tell, they began operating almost four years ago as a small pirate group," Octa elaborated. "They've since grown to a full-fledge criminal enterprise that, oddly enough, also runs health and food programs for countless refugee camps throughout the galaxy. We don't know what their aims are, who their leaders are, or how they came to being. But quite honestly, they are far less dangerous than some of the other problems this galaxy faces. And due to their aid programs, so long as they aren't actively harming people, the authorities tend to look the other way."

"But now is different?" Ral questioned.

"Yes. Our greatest fear is that this beverage makes it off-world. Crime rates have spiked in direct correlation with the distribution of this drink and the galaxy can ill-afford the consequences of it catching on on other planets. We attempted to negotiate with this sector's Colony boss, tried to reason with him, but were fired upon with heavy weapons the moment we announced that we were Jedi. You might have heard earlier, but we don't actually want this syndicate to be broken up. Too many refugees rely on the stability and security their enforcers provide and the Jedi and Denon governments don't have the necessary resources to replace any power vacuum created by the demise of the syndicate."

"No offense, Master," Siare spoke up. "But how are we supposed to do anything when three fully trained Jedi couldn't? We don't even have lightsabers."

"You don't need a lightsaber to do the Jedi thing," Seha said in a nervous whisper. "We can go in as representatives of one of the refugee camps. Tell the guards we want to know more about the drink and ask to speak to the leader. They won't think four kids and a Jawa as much of a threat."

"Indeed," Octa said approvingly. "If we were to use blasters and lightsabers, respond to violence in kind, that will only lead to more death, more suffering. Now is the time to use our minds. At least until we learn who and why they are doing this. The Colony may be a criminal syndicate, but they are not strictly 'bad' people. The Colony may supply vital goods for many of the refugees, but they are not solely 'good' either. The leader of this sector must have some sort of reason to be spreading this drink, something we are not understanding. Only by talking with him will we figure out what it is."

"Credits aren't enough?" Ral blinked. "You did say earlier that refugees were emptying their savings to buy up the stuff."

"But when the credits run dry?" Octa asked. "What will he be left with? Thousands of people going through withdrawal symptoms, no work force capable of staffing his operations. If greed was the sole motivating factor, he'd be doing more than just distributing the drink. It is almost as if he doesn't care what happens after the drinks leave his base."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Raxi scowled, rolling up her sleeves. No one turned good times and pleasure into something perverse, not on her watch. "Let's go over there and convince him to shut things down."

**[[ IV ]]**

The regional headquarters of the Colony was a collection of decrepit highrises outside of what had once been the heart of Denon. All the buildings were in varying states of disrepair and were illuminated by a plethora of burning rubbish bins spread out between them. A fence made of scrap metal, wooden panels, and bits of cloth, ringed the center most structure. A makeshift gate and a single sentry barred entry, though several malevolent-looking guard towers also loomed over the lone path into the compound.

"Hold!" A massive, muscular Besalisk at the front of the gate growled. One of his four meaty hands stretched out to halt the group of raggedly-dressed individuals before him. The other hands held giant meat cleavers, all stained with dried blood.

"We're from camp three-two-two of the southern hemisphere," Raxi said firmly. Her borrowed refugee clothing wrapped tightly around her to be as form-fitting as the Zeltron could make it. "We're here to see your boss about the drinks the other camps have been getting."

"What about dem?" the Besalisk folded his arms in front of him. "Ya wanna shipment, ya have to go through da local Colony representative."

"We want you to stop delivering them," Raxi replied. "You're hurting inter-camp trade and reducing our neighbors to destitution."

"Bold words from a little lady," the Besalisk said, raising a hairy eyebrow. "And I suppose you and yer little group of friends are gonna make him stop if we don't agree? My boss don't take no orders from anyone except for the Joiner King himself. Now beat it, kid."

"The name's Raxi," the Zeltron pressed back. "And unless we get a chance to talk with your boss, we're not moving."

"Really?" the Besalisk flexed his muscles, twirling two of the meat cleavers with practiced skill. "Maybe ya didn't hear me. Ya either scram, or I chop ya into itty bitty pieces and feed ya to the boss's kath hounds."

"Fine, we'll do it my way. You'll get us an audience with your boss," Raxi impressed coolly, her hand briefly passing through the air in front of her.

The Besalisk frowned and scratched his prominent chin. "I will?"

"Yes," Raxi repeated the gesture, focusing on everything she had learned during her lessons. "The sooner we see him, the better. This way everyone can be happy."

Slowly the Besalisk nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yer making some sense. Everyone can be happy. Follow me and stick close. Them other guards aren't as nice as I am."

The mountain of a man pounded the metal gate with one of his large fists, and it slid off to the side.

"By the way, what's your name, big guy?" Raxi asked cheerfully, walking alongside the Besalisk and into the compound.

"Name's Jaggoth," the Besalisk grumbled.

"Jaggoth, strong name. I'm Raxi."

"And I should care, why?"

"Just being friendly," Raxi said petulantly.

While Raxi continued to try and strike up a conversation with their escort, Seha took the opportunity to gaze about the inside of the compound's walls. One of the things that immediately stood out was the maze-like path they were in. The maze walls weren't actual walls per se, but the front or backs of heavy vehicles and speeders parked haphazardly in a seemingly random fashion. There were enough vehicles to outfit a small army, and all of the vehicles appeared to be in working order.

"That's a T-One Bee," Ral whispered in a low voice, gesturing at one of the tank-like vehicles parked beside them. "And over there is a WeeLo-Fiver. This entire place is filled with blackmarket and antiquated speeders and tanks."

"You can recognize them all?" Seha whispered back.

"Not all, but most of them. Remember, I hung out with Trey over in the hangar, where the mechanics at the temple are. He had a technical manual that has the stats on old vehicles," Ral murmured. "Like that snail-looking tank over there. I forget what it's called, but that was last used during the Clone Wars over a half century ago. I don't know them all, but Trey would, he was a genius for that sort of thing."

"{How does criminal syndicate get big machines down here?}" Akazzi chattered nervously. "{Lots of big machines, machines that specialize in death-giving.}"

"A better question would be _why_ the criminal syndicate would need so many," Siare murmured, clicking his tongue and using the rebounding echoes to navigate the maze of vehicles. "Even if these things are a half century old, they can still cause a lot of damage. And if Instructor Nalual and those other Jedi didn't know about them, I doubt Denon security does too."

"And they have the people to crew them," Seha said in a hushed voice. "Look over there."

The group covertly glanced in the direction she was indicating and saw a large, crowd of refugees kneeling before a platform. A single human figure wearing an environmental suit, was standing on the platform, calling out to the crowd in a voice that seemed oddly distorted even for the helmet he was wearing.

_"You have all tasted the Ambrosia that is of the Colony. You all know the bliss the Colony can bring. You have given all you have for the peace Ambrosia brings. Yet you desire more of it. There is only one solution now, one way you can obtain the happiness the Ambrosia brings. Join with us. Become one with us, and your worries will be no more. Join us and your sufferings will end. No longer will you know starvation, or sorrow, or fear. No longer will the petty dealings of everyday life torment your souls. Join with us and then spread the joy of the Colony to all those you know. So that they too will be free of their burdens. So that we will all be united in purpose, in strength._

_Around you stands the means with which we will protect the peace being a part of the Colony brings. You will become the first of thousands, of millions, who will join with us. Who will rid the galaxy of all the suffering. With the Joiner King guiding our will, we will repair this galaxy and make it anew. Side by side, as a single family. If you wish to join us, for another taste of the Ambrosia we have so kindly bestowed upon your wretched lives, rise now. Rise and join the Colony."_

As one, the entire crowd of several hundred individuals stood.

"That's going to complicate things," Siare said worriedly.

"The Colony is raising an army of addicts?" Ral frowned. "As fanatic as they might be, any trained security force would wipe the floor with those refugees in seconds. Especially if they're drugged. Either this Joiner King is delusional or they know something we don't."

The group fell quiet as they reached the foot of the towering skyscraper at the center of the compound.

"Boss is on da top floor. Take da lift," Jaggoth gestured to a jury-rigged pulley-system that looked wholly unsafe. "I gotta get back to me post."

"There wouldn't happen to be stairs, would there?" Raxi said faintly.

"Nah, but dat thing is safe. I've used it myself more den a couple of times."

The group of teens evaluated the Besalisk's large form, and then exchanged uncertain glances. Finally Raxi forced a smile. "If you say so."

Cautiously they piled onto a square piece of scrap metal that served as the lift's platform. A push of a button later, and an old generator hummed to life and began to wench the platform up in a slow, steady pace.

"Turbolift this is not," Siare murmured, gripping onto one of the side supports for dear life as the lift swayed.

Raxi stepped behind him to help steady him. "Don't worry, Siare. I'll make sure you keep your feet on solid metal."

"What do you make of all that down there?" Ral asked the others. "It can't be so simple as a madman wanting an army, can it?"

"If it is, he won't stop the distribution any time soon, and we might need to find a new way down."

"We can use the emergency transponder Master Ramis gave us," Siare said. "But then we'd have to wait until they get here."

"And with all that firepower down there, they might run into a bit more trouble than they expected," Seha said worriedly.

"Think positive, guys," Raxi said bravely. "Thousands of refugees are counting on us to turn off the tap."

"{Akazzi wishes Indare, Trey, and Ak-obi were here. They were good with blasters.}" The Jawa said mournfully.

"Hey, positive, little guy," Raxi wagged a finger at him. "We trust in the Force, and each other, and things will work out."

The lift finally came to a halt on the shattered rooftop of the skyrise. The roof appeared to be a landing platform of sorts, with a single desk and holo-comm unit situated at the far end. A lone figure was seated in it, an ordinary human if it wasn't for the pitch black film covering his eyes and a carapace-like shell dividing his face diagonally.

"Welcome, Jedi," he rose from his chair. "You are Jedi, aren't you? The Joiner King tells me that it is so. Jaggoth was always a weak-brained fool. But Bac'cai knows better."

"Can we speak to this king of yours?" Raxi asked without confirming or denying the man's statement.

"You will speak to Bac'cai," the man gestured to himself. "For the Joiner King knows all that Bac'cai knows. Will tell Bac'cai whether to kill you or to spare you. Now, tell us, what is it you desire, Jedi?"

"For you to stop distributing the…Ambrosia," Seha spoke out firmly, surprising herself with her boldness. "It's destroying peoples' lives!"

"How can it destroy something they've never had in the first place?" Bac'cai cackled. "These refugees, these poor and distressed people, they are not living. They are merely existing. Your government doesn't care about them. Your Jedi Order does nothing to help them. But our Joiner King, he is kind and just. He gives them an opportunity to be a part of something, to be more than just parasites eking out a day to day existence. Tell us, are they not better off happy, ignorant of what ails them? Would you rather they suffer, they feel the anguish their pitiful plights have left them in?"

"That's not happiness," Seha hissed angrily, hands balling into fists. "Happiness is…"

"What is happiness if not for a chemical imbalance?" Bac'cai interrupted. "When you embrace a family member, your body releases chemicals to make you feel at peace, content. Those who mate for the pleasure of it likewise receive similar chemical rushes. The Colony provides the same, but bottled and conveniently accessible to those who have no family left to hug. Who have lost their husbands, wives, children, friends. The Colony gives happiness and pleasure to lives where there was once none. Our Ambrosia is the solution that will bring life to the lifeless, motivate them to be more than they are. Why else do you think its popularity has spread so quickly throughout all of the camps in the Old City?"

"And the tanks and vehicles downstairs?" Ral asked. "What does that have to do with happiness?"

The man smiled crookedly. "There is so much suffering in this galaxy today. So much despair. An army will be needed to spread our Colony's Ambrosia across the stars. To make right the wrong. And Bac'cai will be at our king's side, spreading the will of our Colony, just as Bac'cai has always been since meeting him four years ago."

"You're insane," Raxi finally managed to get out. "You really think people are just going to roll over and let you turn them into alcoholic addicts?"

"Oh but they will. When the Colony rises out from the Old City, a new future will be at hand."

As Raxi and Bac'cai continued arguing, Seha cast about through the Force for guidance, wondering if there would be a peaceful solution to this madness. As she did, however, her initial revulsion and anger towards the man changed. "Raxi! His presence in the Force, feel it!"

"Wow, that _is _weird," Siare muttered after a moment.

"What is it?" Ral asked, holding his lone weapon, a hydrospanner, in a sweaty grip.

"The guy's Force presence seems to stretch on and on out towards the ceiling," Siare muttered. "As if he's an arm of something much, much bigger."

"Ah, you sense the Colony," Bac'cai smiled gaily. "Bac'cai will give you Jedi an option to join us. Join Bac'cai in spreading peace and happiness. You may not be the strongest, but you can do far more as part of the Colony than you could ever accomplish in the shadows of the likes of the Solos and Skywalkers."

"What is this Ambrosia you give out?" Seha asked, trusting the Force to guide her. "We keep hearing so much about, but we don't really know what it is. Maybe once we have a taste, we'll be able to make a decision."

Bac'cai tilted his head, as if listening to some voice only he could hear. "Bac'cai agrees. To be believers, to truly want to join, you must know the bliss Ambrosia brings. Come with Bac'cai and he will give you a bottle of Ambrosia each, free of charge because Bac'cai is so generous."

The black-irised man swayed as he walked towards a trap door on the roof's surface. The young teens followed warily, uncertain of what they'd find.

"He's not so bad," Siare murmured. "In the insane, madman, I-want-to-take-over-the-world kind of way."

"I don't think he's in full control of his thoughts," Raxi whispered back. "That Force bond connected to him is like the strings of a puppet. It does one thing and he obeys without question."

Several floors of the drafty highrise went by as they continued down a creaking staircase, the doors to each floor non-existent—giving them all a sneak peek inside each. Yet, there wasn't much to see. Each was completely empty of life, filled only with debris and rotting wood. They all looked as if no one had entered them in a very, very long time.

Finally, about mid-way down, Bac'cai stopped. The floor they were at had a door, but it was unlike any the teens had seen before. It looked to be a membrane of sorts, completely translucent, yet oily in appearance.

"Here, here is the Ambrosia," Bac'cai said lightly. He crooked a finger at them with one hand and pushed a hand through the membrane door with the other. "Come and drink."

The teens stepped into the room, eyes widening at the sight. Along the entire length of the room were two giant pools of liquid; black, tar-like liquid that bubbled and fizzed at random intervals. Various organic devices were hooked up to the pools, each humming along as they went about their task.

"Amazing, isn't it? This is all due to the Joiner King. This and the five other floors below all full of the happiness-giving Black Ambrosia," the deranged lieutenant of the Colony procured several cups and filled them. "Come and drink now. Take part in the bliss the Colony can give you."

Raxi accepted the first cup with a hesitant smile, but when Bac'cai tried to hand it to Seha, the young twelve year old panicked and said the first thing that came to her head. "Can't, underage."

The disbelieving silence emitted by the others, caused her to blush and shift self-consciously. Bac'cai, however, shrugged and held out the cup to Ral.

"Out of curiosity, how do you make the stuff?" Ral asked, sniffing the contents.

"It does not matter," Bac'cai shook his head patiently. "Why does it matter where the happiness comes from? All that should matter is the fact that you will soon be at peace."

As Bac'cai bent down to fill up another cup for Siare, Ral nodded to Raxi, who activated the emergency beacon. A second later, Ral snatched up Akazzi's backpack and pulled out several flares. "Guys, I think it's time to run."

He ignited the flares and tossed them into the bubbling pools of Ambrosia. A bluish-purple fire promptly ignited, flames leaping towards the dust covered ceiling.

"You!" Bac'cai screeched. He took a swing at Ral, but this time Raxi intercepted the arm and hip-tossed the deranged leader to the ground.

"Let's go!" Raxi yelled, picking up Siare's smaller form while Ral did the same with Akazzi.

The antiquated ceiling and floors of the room began to collapse from the flames.

"Go where?" Seha yelled, coughing as black smoke filled the air. "The upper floors are collapsing!"

Part of the pool of Ambrosia exploded in a deafening crackle, tearing out one side of the wall in a shower of dust and debris.

"Jump!"

"We're not all Jedi you know!" Ral called out, even as he began running towards the flame-framed hole.

"Seha and I will catch you, don't worry," Raxi shouted back.

"How long did you manage to keep those balloons up?" Ral looked over his shoulder to Seha.

"Ten seconds," Seha said. "Hopefully the fall will be much shorter. I was only able to do that in complete silence while sitting and focused."

"You just fill me with confidence."

"Right back at you," Seha shot, the adrenaline making her braver than she felt.

The group continued to run, leaping out of the gaping hole just as the upper levels of the skyrise began to collapse completely. Raxi, Seha, and Siare promptly formed a very weak meld, using the Force to keep themselves, and Ral and Akazzi, from reaching a fatal velocity as they plummeted through the air.

"Above us!"

"I know, Siare, the building's collapsing. Now concentrate on keeping us from going splat on the ground!"

"Not that!" Siare shouted, clinging onto Raxi's back. "Mr. Insane-Colony-Leader-Psycho is following us down!"

Alarmed, the group hazarded a glance above them. Like a comet burning up on re-entry, a smoldering Bac'cai was plummeting after them, his face twisted into a mask of hatred. "You assault the Colony? You dare assault the Colony? Die! Die! Die!"

The thought was shared through the meld, and just before they hit the surface, Raxi, Seha, and Siare used the Force to push off against the foundation of the highrise. This altered their trajectory, sending them flying sideways. They hit the ground in a painful tumble, limbs flying as they skidded across the ground. But they were the fortunate ones. Bac'cai, who had no such energy to soften his landing, shot down through the air like a bullet and impacted with the pavement, his final screech of 'Die!' echoing in the air.

The young teens didn't have much time to recover, however, as the fire continued to spread, igniting the other pools of Ambrosia. Large chunks of duracrete were hurtled into the air as the top half of the building continued to cook off, gouts of fire and flaming liquid pouring down from above. A particularly loud explosion completely obliterated the top of the building and sent flaming debris flying everywhere. Many of the vehicles on the ground were dashed to unrecognizable scrap, the flimsy perimeter fence flattened by the shockwave. Refugees and Colony members alike were all running for their lives, streaming back out into the Old City like cockroaches flushed from their home and looking for a dark place to hide.

Finally, when the explosions ended, and the skyrise had been reduced to half its previous height, all became quiet once more.

Weakly rising from the dust and ashes, Seha craned her head back towards the structure in disbelief. "Oh wow."

"No kidding," Raxi managed. "You alright, Se?"

"Yeah," Seha nodded automatically. She knelt down to help Siare to his feet. "Siare?"

"Fine," the half-Miraluka coughed. "We probably don't have careers in the diplomatic corps though after this mess. Akazzi, you okay little guy?"

"{Akazzi never wants to jump from a burning building again. Much safer on firm, non-burning land. Less mad-men too.}"

"I agree," Ral groaned. He was sporting a nasty lump on his head. "Here's one of the few times I regret not having the Force."

A shadow fell over them, and the teens all glanced at the caster.

"Master Ramis!" Raxi sprung to her feet and bowed.

"I take it the negotiations didn't go so well?" Octa said dryly.

Siare grinned sheepishly. "Nah, it was a blast."

"I'm sure," Octa replied, as the others groaned. "Denon emergency services are already en route now. You can give me and Deran a full explanation back at the temple."

**[[ V ]]**

"So this Bac'cai wanted to raise an army to spread this Ambrosia to other systems?" Even Octa Ramis seemed taken aback by this.

"It's what we could understand of his plans, yes," Raxi nodded.

"And how were you able to convince him to take you to the source of the Ambrosia?"

"Oh, that was all Seha," Raxi winked at the young pre-teen. "She was the one who convinced him that we needed to taste the stuff before deciding on whether or not to join him."

"That was very good thinking, Jedi Initiate," Octa praised the red-faced twelve-year old.

"Thank you, Master," Seha got out in a rush.

"In any case," Ral said. "We don't think Bac'cai was alone. He kept mentioning a 'Joiner King,' and there was an odd Force bond attached to him. Not to mention the fact that the other Colony headquarters scattered throughout the Old City are still distributing the stuff."

"That is disturbing indeed," Jedi Instructor Deran frowned. "We haven't sensed any disturbances in the Force apart from an overall pall of darkness consuming most of the galaxy. Much of it is no doubt caused by the anguish of the people and the rising crime rates, but nothing on the scale of a long-distance Force-bond of this nature. The last time such a threat went unnoticed by the Jedi Order..." she trailed off, lost in her memories.

"It stands to reason that the Colony's other sector lieutenants are similarly bonded," Octa took over. "And if that is the case…"

_"Master Ramis, sorry to interrupt, but we have a hypercomm transmission addressed to you and Instructor Nalual."_

"Go ahead and put it through to this room," Octa assented.

The room dimmed, and a lone hologram flickered to life. The figure was human, but appeared to have insectoid legs emerging out from his back. His face was heavily scarred and misshapen, his head bald. There was a tangible darkness to him, but also an undeniable sense of good, of wanting to do good. The paradox confused the Jedi in the room.

_"Greetings Jedi of the Temple Denon. We are the Joiner King."_

"You are the one responsible for the spread of Ambrosia?" Octa questioned.

_"We are."_

"Why?"

_"Do Jedi not want to end suffering, misery, pain?"_ The Joiner King cocked his head in confusion. _"We offer such an end."_

"What you offer is an illusion, nothing more. A temporary balm for a problem that cannot be solved by drugs and drink alone," Octa said firmly.

_"We offer relief. An escape from the darkness, from the misery. We do not force the Ambrosia on others, they imbibe it themselves. We merely do our part in making this galaxy a better place."_

"Your drink is destroying lives, draining resources and very will out of the people whose lives you are trying to make better."

_"We do not understand. Do the Jedi want the refugees in the dark city to suffer daily? Do they wish to continue to feel the pain they produce? The suffering? If the refugees drink Ambrosia, they will be content with their lot in life."_

"But it's wrong," Seha said heatedly. "Nothing will truly change like this. You can paint over a spot of mold on the wall to make it look pretty again, but that mold will still be there; rotting the material beneath that coat of paint. It's that suffering that lets them know they are truly alive, that drives them to want more than their lot in life. It's that suffering that lets us Jedi know that there is still much that needs to be done in this galaxy to make it right again. The refugees need to have a chance to live their own lives and not have one chosen for them."

The Joiner King tilted his head in the opposite direction. "_But will you make them happy in place of the Colony?"_

"They can find and make their own happiness," Seha said firmly. "When I was an orphan living in the deepest parts of Coruscant, scraps of metal became my toys, whichever adult was caring for me became my parents. I'm proof that even children can survive the harshest of times and become something more, can become good _because of_, not in spite of, the environment they lived in."

"_Strange. If the Colony were to continue to produce Ambrosia, would you destroy our other bases as well?"_

"Maybe not destroy, but we can't allow the Ambrosia to continue to be given out to everyone," Raxi spoke up. "It's not helping anyone in the long run."

_"And our quest to give happiness to others will lead to more violence, more destruction."_

"If it comes down to it," Ral nodded.

_"Then in the interest of reducing violence, of preventing any more harm to the Colony, we will discontinue the distribution of Ambrosia. When our current stockpile runs out, we will produce no more. We do not want death any more than the Jedi. We merely wished to help."_

"Like with the med-clinics and food-deliveries the Colony manages," Siare said.

_"Yes, we will continue those. The Colony always helps our own."_

"There is the small matter of the vehicles and weapons that were stockpiled at your lieutenant's base," Octa said coolly. "I find it hard to see why you would need them if you only wanted to help the refugees."

_"We do not always know what all of the Colony is doing,"_ The Joiner King said after a brief pause. _"Perhaps the member of the Colony collected the vehicles and weapons. Perhaps he was going to sell them to buy supplies for the people. Yes, that is what it must have been. A stockpile to trade for credits to trade for medicine and food."_

"You really expect us to believe that?" Ral raised an eyebrow.

_"We are the Joiner King, there is nothing in the Colony we do not know."_

"But you just said that there were some things that escaped your knowledge," Seha frowned.

_"Nothing of the Colony is beyond our knowledge. The Colony member you met and killed must have been planning to sell his supplies. There is no need to look into it further. We will send a replacement member of the Colony to take over his duty. You will have no trouble with him, he will not distribute Ambrosia."_

"I'm starting to think Bac'cai wasn't the only crazy one," Siare whispered to Seha.

"Thank you for your consideration, Joiner King," Octa said. "Is there a way we can contact you in the future?"

_"The Colony is one. Contact one of the Colony buildings and they will send word to us. We have no need to speak further, good bye."_

And just like that, the comm-call ended.

"Okaaay, what just happened?" Siare said slowly. "Was it just me or did this Joiner King seem a little out of his mind?"

"He may have been a refugee traumatized by the war," Deran said. "In his own way, he thinks he's helping the others."

"At least the Ambrosia problem is solved…right?" Raxi looked to the others for her answer.

"The Ambrosia problem, yes," Octa nodded once. "But the consequences, no. With the supply of Ambrosia ending, we will have to help thousands of refugees through their withdrawal. Likewise, as the supply runs low, we must increase security in the region as people will become desperate for one last drop and no doubt resort to violence to obtain it."

"But what then?" Seha spoke up, looking surprised that she was doing so. After marshalling her courage, however, she pressed on. "We just flood the area with help, and when the situation is over, we leave? What about those thousands of refugees who _can't_ leave?"

Octa smiled approvingly at Seha. "No, we will not leave. If there is any lesson to be learned from this is that the Jedi must start looking at problems closer to heart than far amongst the stars."

"Jedi Knight Mallie Marek recently contacted me saying that Corulag has several metric tons of relief aid that can be distributed to wherever the Jedi Order deems fit," Deran added. "If we were to try and send it to other planets, it would be caught up in the bureaucracy that has entangled most of the aid efforts. Though we can preserve some for other planets in similar need, we can distribute the bulk of the perishable items to the refugees of the Old City."

"I can talk with Healer Dunrik," Raxi said. "Maybe help put together a permanent aid group devoted solely to caring for the refugees."

"I'm up for that," Siare agreed. "I mean, just because those people are out of sight, doesn't mean they should be out of mind too. It's a sad day when a criminal syndicate ends up having to take over the duties of the government."

"Ignoring the very bad pun, Siare," Ral muttered. "I can have a talk with the temple mechanics, maybe help set up some sort of tram-system down there to help ferry supplies and people a lot easier. This way the camps can stay in contact and pool resources a lot easier."

"{Ooo, ooo, machine building. Akazzi can do that. Akazzi can scavenge supplies to make machine car cheaper.}"

Not to be left out, Seha eagerly spoke up. "And I can talk with Master Klin-Fa and Uldir about having the other students help out too."

Octa laughed softly. "You have a good bunch here, Deran."

"I'd like to think so," the blind Togruta smiled proudly. "Why don't you five start on your projects right away. If you need any help pushing through red tape, just let me know and I'll do what I can. Just remember to make sure your projects don't interfere with the Colony's own aid efforts. It is clear the Colony leader does not exactly view this galaxy the same way we do, and the last thing we want is some sort of misunderstanding."

"You can count on us, Instructor Nalual," Raxi saluted sharply.

"Get going then, Rali Xici," the Togruta said with a mock glare.

The group of teens rose as one.

"Oh, and can I say, I can't be more proud of you than I am now," Deran smiled kindly. "You really are Jedi, all of you."

"{Even Akazzi?}"

"Yes, even you," Deran laughed.

"Even if he and I can't feel the Force?" Ral asked.

"Feeling the Force is a sign of being a full Jedi, yes. But the two of you carry the values of what it means to be Jedi within your souls, within your hearts. We Jedi have constantly learned that we cannot do our task alone. It's because we stand shoulder to shoulder with brave and innovative people like yourself and Akazzi that we are capable of doing what must be done," Deran said with a smile.

"On that note," Octa said. "I'd welcome any and all of you to Yavin Four if you ever get the chance to make it to the Outer Rim. I'd be more than happy to continue your education and exploration of the Force."

"Thank you, Master Ramis," Raxi bowed her head politely.

"Since you lot have things well in hand over here, I think it is time I take my leave. I have two Jedi Knights in sore need of some R and R and a mountain of reports to fill out. I'll see if I can't do my part and get the Jedi Council members off their butts and into action with regards to the Denon Old City."

"Thanks," Siare said cheerful.

"We'll do our best," Ral smiled amicably.

"Of that, I have no doubt," Octa inclined her head slightly. "Good luck, and may the Force be with you all."

**[[ Chapter End ]]**

**A\N: ** The Denon kids will be around, here and there, in the sequel. Creepy Killiks for everyone! Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter.

Not certain, but am reasonably sure the Killik arc will take us to or past 30 chapters. I will then start the 'second' part of my sequel in a new story. Rather than having my stories lost in the Star Wars movie section of this site, I will continue to post my sequel(s) in the NJO area.

Also, not sure if anyone noticed (or cared), but since the Clone Wars series is drawing to a close, I rewrote some of the scenes in chapter 20 of aDA to keep it canon with regards to Ahsoka's fate.

Next up, non-Jedi protagonist! The first of a two-part storyline revolving around Syal Antilles and her new squadron. Then there will be an epilogue-lead-in-to-the-sequel chapter before we all wait until mid-November for part one of the Fate Unseen: Dark Nest Crisis.

Please leave a review if you so desire =D.


	7. Chapter 7

**Emerging from the Past**

_The line between the life I want to live and the life I'm expect to live is about as thin as a Hutt after a buffet_

-Leia Organa Solo

**(-]I[-) (-]I[-)**

The Yuuzhan Vong War had been over for nearly six years now. Yet, the need for a strong military presence was needed more than ever. Coincidently, the need for a stable job meant that the ranks of the various military organizations were swelling. Many planets had been ruined in the war, and most of the younger generation had no desire to stay on a world with no security and little infrastructure.

Unfortunately not everyone took up lawful jobs. Piracy, drug and gun-running, smuggling, and all sorts of other illicit activities had been steadily rising as the years went by. These criminal activities jeopardized the very fragile reconstruction efforts taking place all across the galaxy. Every shipment of emergency food supplies hit, every convoy of terraforming materials re-appropriated, every security vessel full of credits for aid work hijacked, all continued to damage and destabilize the weakened galactic system. There were more criminals than there were military vessels, and being de-centralized meant that it was harder to find and eliminate them all.

But the brave men and women of the Galactic Alliance military weren't about to give up the galaxy without a fight. More squadrons of starfighters had been formed since the end of the war, new heroes were emerging. And as children who had grown up in the war came to an age where they could fight, they too signed up to do their part.

In the hangar onboard the newly produced_ Galactic-_class battle carrier_, _the_ Dodanna,_ a dozen pilots straight out of the Starfighter Command academy milled about as they waited for their commanding officer. It was a start of the new year, and most of them were looking forward to what the year would bring them. All twelve were being assigned to an anti-piracy taskforce operating out of the Outer Rim planet of Vorhai, one of the few industrial worlds to escape the Yuuzhan Vong war unscathed.

"So, Dunter, heard anything about our CO?" Mon Calamari pilot Tamith Kartia whispered to the brown-haired young woman sitting on a cargo crate next to her.

"Only that she fought in the Vong War," Lysa Dunter replied distractedly, she was busy scanning the hangar bay almost in disbelief. It was hard for the young pilot to believe that she was on one of the most advance and newest ships of the Galactic Alliance fleet. In a squadron that would soon be flying some of the most advanced and newest fighters the Galactic Alliance had to offer. After training in the older A-wings and Aleph starfighters, she had been ecstatic to learn that the squadron she was assigned to would be flying fresh-out-of-the-factory Eta-5 interceptors.

"I heard that she's a bit unorthodox," the Bith, Arkandi Linz, said. "That the war really scrambled her mind."

"I think I remember one of the instructors mention her name," another pilot spoke up. "Said she flew with Jedi."

"Scuttlebutt says that every squad she was assigned to in the war had bad endings," Bothan pilot Rykos Kre'fey, nephew of the deceased Admiral Traest Kre'fey, said with barely concealed disdain. "That she lost her entire squadron not once, but twice."

"Actually retired after the war was over, but the brass needed officers, and with the older ones retiring again, she had to come back," another pilot whispered with a nod.

"Officer on deck!" A voice called out.

Immediately the gathered pilots straightened and formed a line, hands clasped behind their backs. Footsteps clacked along the metal deck floor as two individuals calmly strode across the floor.

One set of footsteps belonged to a woman looking to be in her early thirties. Old burn scarring covered much of the left side of her face and left the eye bloodshot. Despite the horrific wound, the woman carried herself with a sense of purpose and dignity. Black hair was tied back in a bun, the rank insignia on her flightsuit indicated her status as a colonel in the Galactic Alliance Defense Fleets.

The second set of footsteps belonged to a male pilot, a Trandoshan, whose very non-military robes indicated his status as a Jedi.

"I am Colonel Daine," the female officer began, her tone a matter-of-fact. "With me is Jedi Knight Nixa. We will be your commanders for the duration of your stay in our squadron." The colonel began walking down the line of the new recruits. "Now, I have several rules in my squadron. One, we almost _never_ do anything by the book. The book was written to teach you the basics, but you need more than the basics if you want to survive. As you've no doubt noted, we'll be flying Eta-Fives. They're faster than an A-wing, but can take even less pounding than a Squint. In this squadron you'll learn formations and flight maneuvers from organizations across this galaxy. You'll learn Clawcraft sweeps, Imperial dives, Jedi firing techniques, and even Yuuzhan Vong net-and-spear tactics. For those capable of counting, you might have noticed our squad has fourteen pilots instead of the standard twelve. This gives us an even broader field to work with when it comes to planning our attacks. The type of enemy we're going up against has seen what the Galactic Alliance protocols are, knows exactly what formation our fighters will take before we even form up. But we'll be different. We'll actually come out of those types of engagements alive.

And that brings me to my second rule. After every engagement, we will have a mandatory meeting in the lounge of whatever ship we're operating from and drink a glass of blue milk. This is non-negotiable. "

This brought a few smiles to the faces of the pilots, but the colonel didn't call them out.

"My third rule, never, ever, underestimate the enemy. Even if we're flying the most advanced starfighters our government has to offer, going up against Howlrunners and Uglies, if you aren't dead after underestimating them, you'll wish you were when I get through with you. Too many pilots have been lost to their own stupidity, believing that they were better than their opponents, and I won't shed any tears if that's how you decide to go out. Any questions?"

"Sir," one of the human pilots spoke up—a young male with dark hair and military bearing.

"Go ahead Flight Officer."

"Sir, if the 'book' is unnecessary, then why do we learn it at the academy, sir?"

"I never said it was unnecessary, Flight Officer Vash. But the greatest starfighter pilots didn't get great by just following the book. They also added their own chapters to it," Colonel Daine said coolly. "Any more questions?"

"So the rumors are true, we're learning Vong starfighter techniques?" A Devaronian pilot hissed in displeasure.

"Yes," Colonel Daine replied, the coldness in her voice increasing ever so slightly. "They didn't nearly conquer the entire galaxy by being poor pilots. And thank you for bringing up one of my pet peeves, Flight Officer Garix. If you're in this squad, you'll refer to them as 'Yuuzhan Vong,' if only so you don't sound like a complete idiot. 'Vong' means child in their language, and as they are now a part of the Galactic Alliance, I believe they deserve more respect than that. Unless you'd rather others start addressing you as Baby Devaronian? Or Flight Officer Kartia as Mon Cal Spawn. If you don't like it, transfer out. I don't need pilots who hold grudges over a war that ended six years ago. That's not what this squadron will be about. Of course, if you transfer, you won't get to fly an Eta-Five until the High Command gets the funds to mass produce them. Which, in this economy, won't be for a very, very long time. I'll be in my office for the next few hours if you'd rather continue to hold onto your hate and preconceptions. Our first mission will be in three days, a raid on a pirate group harassing relief efforts of Rodia. Information about the attack will be sent to your quarters, I expect all of you to study it and know it by the time we have our mission briefing. That is all, dismissed."

As the pilots relaxed, Colonel Daine strode up to Lysa. "Flight Officer Dunter."

"Sir?"

"A word."

Lysa's expression fell, and she nodded reluctantly. "Yes, sir."

The two stepped off to the side as the rest of the squadron dispersed.

"I want you to know that I've heard of you from General Tycho," Colonel Daine began. "I know who your parents are."

"I'll submit my request for transfer immediately, sir," Lysa replied curtly, the sinking feeling in her stomach almost painful as she did her best to hide her disappointment.

"Oh?"

"Sir, I know that the pressure to…"

"Flight Officer," Colonel Daine interrupted. "I've served under your father. Flown with the Solos, with more war heroes than I've cared to count. I _know_ that the last thing they want is any special treatment. I assume that the same goes for any family that these heroes might have."

"Yes, sir," Lysa swallowed.

"Now you signed up with Starfighter Command to see action, to help protect this galaxy, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then that is what I expect from you. When you are in the VibroSwords, you'll be just another pilot."

"And if something should happen to me, sir. Your career…"

"Will remain unaffected. You knew the risks when you signed up, as do your parents. Unless you _want_ to transfer?"

"No, sir."

"Very good," Colonel Daine said curtly, her voice still devoid of any hint of emotion. "Now rejoin the rest of your squad. I just wanted to inform you that I know the truth, so you don't have to try and hide who you are from me."

"Thank you, sir," Lysa replied professionally. Inwardly, however, she was breathing a great sigh of relief, the tension in her back disappearing.

"Just one thing, however, Flight Officer."

"Sir?"

"Think about when you'll let the rest of your squadron know. When you're here, your squadron will be your family. The longer you lie to them, the greater the hurt they'll feel."

"Sir, I…I don't want to be treated any differently by them. If I reveal my true name…"

"So you would rather they know you as Lysa Dunter, then? Rather they become friends with Lysa Dunter, trust Lysa Dunter to watch their backs? You'd prefer that Lysa Dunter be considered a part of their family, but not your true self?"

Lysa hesitated.

"Just think on that, Flight Officer. I already said that you'll be just another pilot in this squadron. When the others realize that you're not getting any special treatment, they'll see you as just another pilot as well. Dismissed."

Lysa clicked her heels together and saluted sharply, before turning and leaving the hangar.

**(-]II[-) (-]II[-)**

The moment she stepped out into the hallway, Lysa Dunter immediately leaned against the nearest wall and released a deep breath, sagging as she did. To her squadmates, her academy instructors, to practically everyone else, they knew her as Lysa Dunter; an overall average student who managed to get lucky one day and beat a sim-record set by Wedge Antilles himself. If they really knew who she was, she knew that that stroke of luck would be seen a lot differently.

Lysa Dunter was in fact Syal Antilles, the daughter of the most famous non-Jedi war hero still living. She had tried to keep a low profile over most of her youth. Her family had retired to Corellia after the Yuuzhan Vong War, and she and her sister had completed their schooling on the planet. But when it came time for a career path, however, her choice seemed obvious. She was the daughter of the most decorated pilot of the Galactic Alliance, and it only made sense that she'd follow in his footsteps.

Of course, with a recognizable last name like Antilles, she doubted she'd ever be able to have a 'normal' experience in the military. Before signing up at the academy, she had legally changed her name, dyed her hair brown, had a medical procedure to temporarily change her eye color to slate gray, and even altered her birth certificate to make her a year older than she actually was. She wanted to _earn_ her place in the Galactic Alliance Navy and not have one given to her because of who her father was.

If the others really knew who she was, that sim-record she'd beaten would be something that was _expected_ of her, instead of an accomplishment all on her own. Her father may be a hero in her eyes, in the galaxy's eyes, but having his name definitely complicated things.

When Colonel Daine had initially pulled her aside, a whole range of emotions, ranging from fear to resignation had gone through her. After all, what frontline commander would risk one's career by putting her in a starfighter instead of at a desk? She could almost see the headlines 'Daughter of Famed War Hero Killed By Commander So-and-So's failures,' regardless of the circumstances of her possible demise. It certainly didn't help that family friend, and uncle to her, Tycho Celchu, was _the_ top General in the Galactic Alliance Starfighter Command and had been keeping an eye on her ever since she had first signed up. Despite all her precautions, when the colonel started speaking, Syal had feared the worst.

But then the unexpected happened.

Colonel Daine knew who she truly was, and didn't seem to give a womprat's backside about it. Was even going to let her stay on the squadron and participate in the coming mission. Right then and there, Syal made a mental apology to her adoptive uncle for all the bad things she had been thinking about him for outing her to her CO. The one commander he could have pulled strings for her to get was not only fair, but was willing to let her prove herself without the added pressure that came with being an Antilles. Maybe she could truly start from scratch among the VibroSwords.

Very slowly, Syal stood again, her right leg twitching in a nervous habit of hers that she couldn't quite shake. She let out another breath as she thought about Colonel Daine's advice, about coming clean about her identity with the rest of the squadron. She still wasn't ready to take that leap, but it was now definitely something she was considering. _She_ wanted her place in the squadron, not Lysa Dunter.

With her nerves once again calm enough for her to function, Syal continued to follow the corridor to a set of turbolifts; which took her to the deck her quarters were located on. The doors slid open, and Syal greeted her Mon Calamari roommate with a nod as the room's humidity washed over her.

"Tamith," Syal couldn't help but hide a genuine grin.

"Lysa," the Mon Cal pilot's large eyes swiveled towards her. "What's got you in such a good mood? Did the colonel make you her wingman or something?"

"Or something," Syal laughed. And because her mother was an expert in intelligence matters, Syal quickly used some of the skills she had picked up to change subjects. "Is that the mission brief you're looking over?"

"Hmmm?" Tamith glanced back at the datapad in her hand. "Oh, this, yes. Compared to what we're hitting them with, I don't think we'll have to worry much about it. Your copy of the briefing is on your bunk."

Syal snagged the spare datapad and scrolled through it. After a moment, she frowned at her bunkmate. "Not much to worry about? We're going up against four squadrons of fighters and two support ships."

"Lysa," Tamith laughed. "We're in one of _the_ most advanced warships in the Galactic Alliance navy, something that can take on two MC80s and come out ahead. The pirates are flying in Uglies, we're flying in the latest in fightercraft technology. I kind of like my odds. Besides, I have you, Miss-Beats-General-Antilles'-High-Score, as my wingman. We'll make it through in one piece."

"And here the Colonel was warning us not to underestimate the enemy," Syal said dryly.

"Would you relax already? The brass wouldn't send us out if they didn't think we can handle a simple pirate sweep. The only reason why these pirates have caused so much trouble is because they've been raiding unarmed aid transports. They've always fled at the sight of reinforcements. If they had at least some skill, they would have tried to put up a fight long ago."

Syal pressed her lips together, but didn't say anything. Lysa Dunter was just an inexperienced Flight Officer who only knew of the great Wedge Antilles through holovids and the HoloNet. Lysa Dunter's parents were air-speeder mechanics who didn't know the first thing about flying. Hadn't been at both Death Stars and survived countless near-death experiences, hadn't raised her on bed-time stories involving the Battle of Borleias or the Ciutric Hegemony. Lysa Dunter was just as green as all the others were.

"You never know, Tamith," Syal slid into her bunk. "The last thing any of us needs is to be hit by a lucky shot or something. That'd be a quick end to a several million credit Eta, and a waste of our last year of training too."

"Yeah," Tamith breathed, climbing into her own bunk. "You're right. But I just can't help but have a good feeling about this. Our first _real_ mission, the first time we get to make a real difference in this galaxy. I'm definitely not going to blow it."

**(-]III[-) (-]III[-)**

Colonel Zindra Daine kept her face impassive as General Tycho Celchu appeared over her quarter's holopad. The years had been far from kind to her. Wrinkles prematurely aged a once youthful face, stress and tragedy etched deeply in each. Only a war-injury kept her from disappearing into the bottle, her desire to stay physically fit kept her from turning to stims, and her pride kept her from taking her own life at the end of said war.

She had lost much—having had multiple squadrons of friends, family, people she knew, die—with her being the only survivor. She had resigned her commission at the end of the war, tried to drown her sorrows with blue milk and become just another nobody. With her friends dead, her dad passing of a heart attack from the malnutrition he had suffered as a Vong prisoner, and the girl she had seen as her little sister not even in the same galaxy, she really didn't have anyone, or anything left to care about.

Until Tycho had tracked her down and made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

"_Colonel_."

"General."

"_How was the squadron?"_

"You tell me, sir," Zindra glowered. "When I agreed to come back, I definitely wasn't expecting to get screwed over so quickly, sir."

_"You're the best person for the job, Colonel Daine."_

"Sir, of the twelve you sent me, eight of them, _eight_, are directly related to a general, admiral, or war hero currently serving or retired. Syal Antilles, Rykos Kre'fey, Invir Yonka, Tamith Niathal, Adrina Devis, need I go on?"

_"Zindra."_

"Sir," Zindra interrupted. "The worst part is, they're all lying to each other and their squadmates and I'm the only one who has any idea. I'm also under orders not to reveal any of their true identities unless it becomes a matter of life and death. Do you _know_ how frustrating that is? At least Rykos has the stuff to openly use his name, and all the political weight that comes with it. Tamith and Syal are wingmates, yet don't have an inkling as to who the other is. Erin already is tense from serving on a ship named after her great-uncle. And for an ironic twist of things, Yonka and Devis are more than likely to end up together by the year is out. I had to give the same 'think about when you want to tell the others the truth' speech seven times! Force, I've never been more glad for Bothan pride than now. I would have gone insane giving that speech an eighth time."

_"Finished?"_ Tycho said with a raised eyebrow and an amused quirk of his lips.

"Yes sir," Zindra said with a disbelieving shake of her head. "You really think I'm the best person to lead these people. I don't have the best track record when it comes to keeping my squadrons intact."

_"How about this, you're the only person we could find for the job."_

"That's more like it," Zindra rubbed at her face. "And tell me again why High Command decided it was a good idea to cram all of their children into a single squadron? Their aliases are solid. Any one of them would have been able to blend in with one of the regular squadrons without any trouble."

Tycho replied in a single word. _"Politics."_

"Should have figured."

_"Both Fleet and Starfighter Command are looking for something to rally around. The next 'Rogue Squadron' so to speak. The politicians too are looking for something for their stump speeches. A sign that the galaxy is in safe hands. Can't have either of that when we're getting out rears handed to us by the myriad of pirate groups out there. You can see the taglines, can't you? Once the ruse is up, there'll be another generation of Antilles, Dodanna, Kre'fey, and Darklighters ready to bring back the peace and prosperity we enjoyed during the New Republic."_

"As if there wasn't enough pressure on me as it was," Zindra deadpanned.

_"If it is too much, Zindra, I can have them reassigned and…"_

"No, I can take it," Zindra said quickly. "Maybe if things go south, you guys will actually let me retire for good."

_"You're supposed to be thinking positive, Daine."_

"Would you like to take my place, sir?"

_"Nope, that's why I became a general in the first place. I know your first engagement is coming up soon. I can move the Rogues in to assist if you want."_

"Appreciated, but no. We wouldn't be much of a propaganda squadron if we had the old guard backing us up. Plus, I think Lujayne would object to having her father's old squadron watch over her. So would Flight Officer Varth for that matter. Is Alinn still with the Rogues?"

_"For the next month at least, Colonel Varth still has command of the Rogues. Her promotion to general is being fast-tracked, though," _Tycho looked to some place off-camera for a moment, then back to Zindra. _ "Alright then, if you're fine with flying this alone I would wish you luck, but I know how you young starfighter pilots are with your crazy superstitions."_

"I sure don't feel young, and I'm almost half way past thirty," Zindra retorted dryly. "It's hard to believe that nine years ago I was a green pilot flying with Solos and Skywalkers, just lucky to make it out of every engagement alive."

_"Look at it from my view, Colonel. The Death Star was over thirty years ago."_

"You know, that kind of does make me feel better."

_"Zindra, if things do go sideways, I've got your back. Permanent retirement looks just as good for me too."_

"Just had to make sure all your friends' kids got a semi-competent commander?"

_"Something like that."_

"I'll brief you when the mission is over."

_"I'll be waiting. General Celchu, out."_

**(-]IV[-) (-]IV[-)**

Syal's eyes snapped open almost on instinct and darted towards the chronometer in the room. There was still two hours before the morning shift took over, but that wasn't why she had awakened so early. It may have been almost 'morning' on the _Dodanna_, but it was just after dinner at Coronet, Corellia; the place where her family lived. Shaking off the last of her sleep, Syal rolled out of her bunk and draped her flight-jacket around her shoulders as she pulled on her boots. A quick check on Tamith revealed that her Mon Calamari bunkmate was fast asleep, so Syal exited the room as silently as she could.

Walking the length of the assault carrier to its communication's room, Syal was surprised to pass another one of her squadmates.

"Hey Six," Syal stopped to greet her squadmate, the raven-haired Nora Dod; who was also in her flight-group.

"Seven," Nora smiled tiredly, eyes slightly red. "Morning call to your folks?"

"Yeah," Syal laughed. "Well, evening where they're from. You?"

"You know how family is, always worried," Nora made a pained sound as she rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. "My great-grandpa died steering his fighter into a CIS capital ship, my grandpa died steering his fighter into an Imp capital ship, and my dad died steering _his_ fighter into a Vong ship. They're afraid I'm going to continue the family tradition."

"Military brat?"

"Back before the Rebellion," Nora yawned in confirmation. "We Dods were always in minor roles though, so I don't have any pearls of wisdom to share, other than not to pilot your fighter into an enemy cruiser."

"I'll remember that," Syal nodded.

"See you around."

Syal continued on into the comm-room and took over one of the private booths. After fiddling with the dials and buttons to establish a connection, she sat back in her chair and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. Only a split second later, and a teenage girl, only a year younger than her, appeared over the holo-projector. If it hadn't been for the modifications Syal had made to herself, the younger teen would have been a spitting image of her.

Blue eyes brightened happily. _"Syal!"_

"Hey, Sneak," Syal laughed softly, using her nickname for her little sister. "Mom and dad still awake?"

_"You really think they'd miss this? They were bugging me constantly about if you had called yet."_

The image flickered, and then Wedge Antilles and Iella Wessiri Antilles joined in, stepping behind Myri Antilles' seated figure. _"Syal."_

"Mom, dad."

_"How are you doing? Settling in okay?" _Iella asked with a happy smile. Despite her mother's words and light tone, Syal knew that those intelligence-trained eyes of her would be looking her over for any sign of distress.

"I'm fine, mom," Syal said, as her younger sister mimed hiding laughter behind a hand.

Not looking down, Iella lightly thumped Myri on the shoulder. "_That's good to hear. It's been a while since we've heard from you."_

_ "How's your CO?" _Wedge asked.

"Uncle Tycho got me a good one," Syal breathed, her leg shaking again. "She knows who I really am, doesn't care one iota."

_"Really, who?"_

"A Colonel Zindra Daine," Syal said. She unconsciously glanced around the room, despite being in the booth alone. "She's kind of a hard-case. Doesn't seem to like her job much, so not sure if she actually doesn't care about who I am, or doesn't care about me in general."

_"Definitely the former," _Wedge replied, his expression softening.

"She said she served under you?"

_"At Borleias." _Wedge nodded. "_I don't think Tycho could have picked a better CO."_

_ "Ooo, ooo, mom, can I tell her what I found out?" _Myri interrupted.

"_Not knowing is sometimes better than knowing_," Iella shook her head, squeezing Myri's shoulder. _"She'll figure it out eventually."_

"Sneak?" Syal narrowed her gaze onto her younger sister. While she had gone through flight-school, Myri Antilles was following in their mother's footsteps and attending the top-secret school for intel operatives. Due to the nature of said studies, it appeared as if Myri was attending a prestigious Corellian university. In reality, Myri was actually forbidden from discussing anything that went on in that school of hers. Which made for dinner conversations that went something like: 'What did you do today?' 'That's classified.' 'So…You only went to school?' 'Shhh…you're not supposed to know that.'

Needless to say, Syal knew less about her younger sister's life than most sisters only a year apart might.

_"Oh, just something I discovered while researching your squadmates,"_ Myri said airily, obviously enjoying knowing something her hotshot-pilot sister didn't. _"It was actually by accident, but mom was teaching me how to slice and I got curious."_

"And this information…is it good, bad?"

_"Let's just say you have more in common with your squad than you might think,"_ Myri said, blue eyes sparkling.

"Keep your secrets," Syal chuckled. "If mom thinks I'll find out eventually, you can't bait me like you did last time."

_"The time I convinced you to let me fly your training fighter in exchange for the info on the guy you were dating? Or the time before that when you went to that club wearing the…"_

"Both times," Syal gritted out, glancing at her parents.

_"I don't want to know,"_ Wedge groaned.

"That's okay, daddy," Syal said brightly. "How are things at Coronet?"

_"Warm and sunny,"_ Wedge deadpanned succinctly.

Iella smiled fondly at her husband. _"He's still enjoying teaching the new CorDef fighter jocks. Told him he'd miss the cockpit too much to stay retired permanently."_

CorDef, or Corellian Defence Force, was Corellia's actual military force founded at the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War. Given how badly CorSec had been battered by a smaller Vong fleet, the Corellian leadership decided that the planet needed a viable military force to safeguard Corellia and her allies. CorSec, as efficient as it was as a policing force, just didn't have the teeth the Corellian leadership wanted. And from that need, the Corellian Defense Force was born.

_"Don't talk like that, dear,_" Wedge pouted. _"You're enjoying teaching the next generation of spies too."_

"_Never said I wasn't._"

There was a knock on the door, letting Syal know her time was nearing an end. "It's great to see all of you again, take care."

_"You too,_" Wedge said seriously.

Iella nodded in agreement, hugging her husband's arm. _"I'm glad you're finding your place out there, Syal_."

_"Good luck with your first mission,"_ Myri chirped.

"You would have read that brief," Syal said dryly.

_"Hey, I get to live vicariously through you!"_

"Look after yourself, Sneak. 'Kay?"

_"Later!"_

Syal deactivated the holo-pad and collapsed back into her chair with a heavy sigh. It was hard to believe that Corellia was practically on the opposite side of the galaxy now, her family so far away. Yet, this was what she wanted, to be a pilot in the Galactic Alliance Navy, to make a difference.

Her mind went back to the upcoming mission. Hopefully, she would be able to start making a difference very soon.

**(-]V[-) (-]V[-)**

The air smelled of grease, caf, and leather, smells that Syal Antilles had long associated with home. Growing up on the _Errant Venture_, she had always been on the move, surrounded by pilots of varying repute. Even on Corellia, her parents had chosen a home by a CorDef fighterbase, and she used to spend her teenage years after school watching fighters take off and land... and driving her father crazy by flirting with the fighter-jocks. It was a fair assessment to say that she had rocket fuel in her veins and fighter-schematics on her mind.

She joined the rest of her squadron in the briefing room, refreshed and ready for the coming engagement. She had spent the previous night studying her datapad up and down, front and back, had memorized every emplacement and iota of data the intelligence teams had gathered on the pirate hideout. She was definitely ready.

Looking around the room filled with dirt-smudged plastisteel chairs, she grabbed the nearest one and sat down next to one of her squadmates.

"Flight Officer," he greeted her, his accent just a touch Imperial. He held out a hand. "Don't think we had a chance to get acquainted earlier. I'm Minata Jandi."

"Lysa, Lysa Dunter," Syal shook his hand. Even as she introduced herself, the colonel's words echoed loudly in her mind. Would the day come when he would learn of her real name? Shaking herself, Syal motioned to one of the three other human females in the squad, a light-brown skinned woman probably as old as she was. "I saw you talking with Hellena earlier, you two know each other?"

"Met her in the academy. I think it's the accent, but we managed to get along fine," Minata nodded. "You know her?"

"Only briefly. We took the Advanced Imperial Fighter Maneuvers series, taught by General Phennir. She and I vied for the top marks," Syal shrugged.

"It seems like just about everyone in this squad has top marks for something or another," Minata said with a surprised blink. "I know Flight Officer Dod over there is an expert in fighter strategy. Kre'fey's good at fighter-capital ship coordination. And Linz can probably shoot a womprat with one-eye closed and a faulty trigger system."

"You'd think they were grooming us for something," Flight Officer Helelna Altis remarked, taking a seat on Minata's opposite side. "Nice to see you again, Dunter. No hard feelings?"

"Oh, you won?" Minata looked between the two.

"Told him, did you," Hellena said with a short, amused laugh

"Yes, she won. By a lousy one and a half points," Syal remarked darkly, mock-glaring at her counterpart. With Hellena's full Imperial accent, Syal felt as if she had let her father down in some way. It shouldn't be possible for an Antilles to lose to an Imperial!

Hellena gave her a pat of mock sympathy. "Chin up, Dunter. Don't feel too bad. You're just a country girl, but you came ahead in the X-wing sims, so that more than counts for something."

Syal grimaced, but somehow kept her smile in place. "I thought you were going into Fleet Command, Officer's Training, shiny big ships, and the like?"

"Eventually," Hellena nodded. "I wanted to see what it's like in these frontline squadrons before commanding a half dozen or so from the safety of a cruiser. 'Don't order someone to do something if you aren't willing to do it yourself,' my father's always said."

Any further discussion was halted as Colonel Daine and her Jedi wingman entered the room.

"I am going to assume that all of you have studied the briefing and the information it contained," the colonel began, again without any preamble. "Are there any questions?"

"Sir," Rykos voiced.

"Go ahead Corporal."

"In analyzing the makeup of the pirate forces, would it not be better if we used the _Dodanna's _guns and bombard the pirate base from a distance? They are located on at an abandoned lunar mining base and will no doubt have group-support should we engage them."

"Excellent question, Corporal," Colonel Daine said sharply. "It also shows that you only skimmed the datafiles for the strategic information and nothing else. Corporal Darksun, would you care to answer the question?"

Dark-haired, fair-skinned Jayne Darksun gave a perfunctory nod. "Yes ma'am. The pirates are very successful at ripping off the aid convoys and reconstruction crews of their supplies. However, they appear less successful in moving the stolen gear on the black-market for reasons unknown. Intel teams have confirmed that nearly eighty percent of the stolen supplies and credits are still within their base. If we can recover them, those are supplies and credits the cash-strapped Senate doesn't have to replace."

"Your answer, Corporal Kre'fey," Colonel Daine gestured for the Bothan. "While engaging the pirates at closer range will be more risky, High Command has decided that our lives are worth less than the several million credits worth of relief supplies currently stockpiled at that base. And rightly so. These supplies would go a long way to restoring Rodia and the surrounding systems back to their pre-war state."

"Will it only be the VibroSwords, ma'am?" Devaronian pilot Brun Garix asked. "The odds are not exactly in our favor."

"It will be just us," Colonel Daine confirmed. "Galactic Alliance military is stretched thin enough as it is, and while the _Dodonna_ will be nearby, she'll be several lightyears a way assisting in another operation. Any further questions? No? Good. This will be a dangerous mission, like all missions we'll be assigned to, but we are pilots in the Galactic Alliance Starfighter Command and this is what we signed up for. Get to your ships, VibroSwords, and let's do this."

**(-]VI[-) (-]VI[-)**

"VibroSword Seven, standing by," Syal reported after her Eta-5 interceptor had left the _Dodanna_'s hangar bay in a rush of speed, agilely slipping into formation. She ran a system's check as the rest of the squadron called in. "Little Seven," she addressed her astromech, an older R2-series model. "I don't mind getting a little chilly. Divert power from life-support to shields, as fast as this thing is, it feels like I'm flying something made of flimsyplast."

The gold-painted astromech warbled an affirmative, and the fighter's heating system dimmed. The droid had been with her since the _Errant Venture_, when she had scavenged it from a junk pile, and it had been her companion throughout the academy. She was rather fond of the droid and wouldn't even dream about trading it for a more advanced model.

_"VibroSwords, lock in hyperspace coordinates and jump on my mark. Three, two, one, mark."_

Syal punched the appropriate button, and the stars around her elongated into the blue shell of hyperspace.

A minute later, VibroSword squadron dropped out of hyperspace in the Tythe system. It was a system that had been strip-mined by an industrial company nearly a half-century earlier, and it hadn't recovered since. Whole planets were barren, large gaps were visible in the system's asteroid belts, and many of the moons in the system had been reduced to little more than rotating balls of dust. It was a dead system, a testament to the very greed and apathy towards life that the Yuuzhan Vong had waged war on.

"_Squadron form up."_

"_Lead, Twelve here. I'm detecting a second force that wasn't in our intel briefs,"_

_"A second pirate group?" _Tamith asked.

Syal glanced at her own readings. An additional two squadrons of fighters were present, as well as a freighter of some kind. "Do we abort?"

_"Negative,"_ Colonel Daine said. _"Stay together. Our primary objective is clearing the area of enemy fighters for the commando teams to take the base. Only fire on the second group if they fire on us. Proceed to the mission objective."_

"Affirmative," Syal said, her leg shaking once more.

"_Enemy fighters emerging from the lunar base. Four squadrons, just like the reports," _VibroSword Twelve called in. _"And it looks like the new guys are also joining in the fight. Six squadrons of hostile fighters. The two from the new guys look to be Imperial surplus TIEs, the other four are Uglies."_

_ "Split up by flights. Designating targets for each flight now," _Colonel Daine barked.

The fourteen fighters of VibroSword veered apart sharply as they followed their designated targets.

"_Two Flight, looks like the Eyeballs are ours," _Corporal Darksun sent as Two Flight began to rapidly close the distance with the familiar workhorses of the Empire. "_Stick with your wingman and we'll make it through this."_

"Roger that," Syal confirmed.

_"Save your missiles for the big ships. Lasers only Two Flight. I'll take out the lead TIE, fire on targets of opportunity."_

Syal adjusted the grip on the steering yoke, feeling the raw power of her fighter's engines push her across the stars much faster than she wanted to. This was it, her first engagement not with sims or against training drones, but against actual enemies. She quickly cycled through her targeting computer, locking on to a second pair of TIEs right behind the lead, before readying her laser cannons.

Evening out her breathing, a second stretched on infinitely as she waited for the targeting reticule to change from yellow to green. When she received the solid tone indicating target lock, she squeezed the firing trigger and bolts of red light flashed out from either side of her cockpit. The other four fighters of her flight did the same, as did the guns of the two dozen TIE Fighters they were heading towards. The exchange of red and green lit up the stars, but the Eta-5 interceptors were several generations beyond the capabilities of the aging TIE Fighters.

Both sides blew through each other, with the remains of six TIEs floating in a small sea of debris. The Etas had a tighter turning radius than the TIEs, and just like that, all four members of Two Flight were hounding their second, and for some, third targets.

All the sudden, an alarm began screaming in the cockpit, signaling that an enemy had a weapon's lock on her. Glancing over her shoulder, Syal saw two TIEs screaming down at her, lasers flashing all around. With a calmness she wasn't aware she had, Syal juked her fighter, bouncing it left and right and pushing its inertial dampeners to their limits. Her pulse raced as bolts of green flew by her canopy, and she jerked her steering column to send her fighter into a corkscrew.

_"Need help, Seven?" _Came the voice of her wingman.

"No, I got it, Eight," Syal breathed, halting her dizzying spin by slamming onto the brakes and cutting the power to the engines. The two TIEs that had been trying to keep up with her attempted to stop as well, but their systems weren't capable of such a quick deceleration after the g-forces their maneuvers were pulling. One had an entire pylon, solar panel wing and all, tear away. The other braked, but had its rear stitched with laser fire and promptly blew apart. Syal turned her guns onto the crippled fighter, but promptly received a surrender call over the open channel and decided to spare the helpless pilot.

"_Nice flying,"_ Tamith announced her presence, her Eta-5 flashing by in pursuit of another TIE.

Adrenaline coursing through her, Syal grinned. "Thanks."

She whipped her fighter around again and searched for another target.

The battle was wholly lopsided, even with the numerical odds against the VibroSwords. The Uglies and TIEs fielded by the pirate groups just couldn't match the speed or power of the next-gen fighter craft and were burned every which way they turned. By the time the three pirate freighters were able to maneuver into position to help, they no longer had any functional fighter screen.

The freighter captains must have noticed it, and self-preservation kicked in.

_ "They're making a run for it." _VibroSword Six, Nora Dod, reported. _"Lead, do we pursue?"_

_"Aim for the engines and life-support systems, disable only."_ Colonel Daine replied shortly. _"If you can't get to them, let them go."_

_ "Roger Lead,"_ Corporal Darksun said. _"Two Flight, form up. We have the freighter that came with our new friends."_

The four Eta interceptors raced away from the debris field full of TIE and Ugly parts and towards an aging _Space Master_-class transport.

_"Unidentified transport, kill your engines and stand down," _Corporal Darksun broadcasted. _"We will open fire if you fail to comply."_

As Two Flight continued their approach, the modular rectangular cargo bins in the center of the freighter began to float free. The engines of the transport glowed, and the freighter began to pull away at an even faster rate.

_"Blast it! VibroSword Seven, lock a torp on that thing's engines."_

"Roger, Lead."

Two Flight began to weave around the discarded cargo containers, while Syal focused her concentration on her target. Her torpedo was also next-gen, and would probably completely obliterate the aging freighter if she wasn't careful enough.

The seconds ticked by.

Just as she was about to squeeze the trigger, a plume of fire filled her vision and alarms of all sorts immediately began to blare. She reflexively fired the torpedo even as shockwaves buffeted her fragile fighter. As her artoo unit squealed in the background, Syal was jerked about violently in her seat, the stars outside spinning dizzyingly; and not in a good way.

Panicked chatter filled the comlines, and what was left of her threat-assessment display lit up like holiday lighting.

_"V-Sword Seven, you still with us?" _Syal heard Corporal Darksun call out worriedly.

"Good to go," Syal immediately replied, despite the splitting headache she was feeling. "What happened?"

_"The contents of the jettisoned cargo bins were rigged to blow. Both Eight and Six have been knocked out of the fight and are alive but EV. A half-squadron of non-friendly X-wings have also dropped out of hyperspace."_

Syal ran a quick systems check. Her fighter's armored plating had been charred beyond usefulness, and a few control panels had fried, but it was otherwise intact. "Little Seven, where's Five?"

_"[Being chased by six X-wings. She could probably use some help.]" _The simple-minded artoo unit sent back.

Little Seven angled their fighter towards Corporal Darksun's location, and Syal's mouth immediately went dry at the sight. Only the Eta's speed was keeping the corporal alive as the half-dozen X-wings tried to corral her into a single kill-zone.

"Where are the rest of the VibroSwords?" Syal called out, flicking her weapon systems back to lasers and pushing her engines to the max.

_"[They are engaged with the pirate frigates. Anti-starfighter mines have crippled most of them.]"_

Syal grit her teeth. So much for sticking to her alias of Lysa Dunter. Now she'd have to pull off a couple of tricks her dad, the famed Antilles, showed her. She flipped her weapons back to warheads and began tracking the half-squadron of X-wings without the use of the targeting computer. The last thing she wanted was to give the shielded fighters a heads up. "Little Seven, set the proximity warning of my torp to detonate a few centimeters before impact."

_"[Set]."_

"Well, here goes nothing."

Almost as if understanding what she was doing, Corporal Darksun deliberately led the squad of enemy X-wings into a predictable path. Her Eta's shields flared as the quad lasers began to home in, but the corporal bravely held her course.

"Break now, Five!" Syal yelled, firing off the second and last of her fighter's torpedoes.

The warhead screamed out of its firing chamber and streaked across the void of space. Without the advance warning a missile lock would have given the X-wings, the pilots had no idea what had hit them. Syal had timed it right, and the torpedo detonated directly in the center of the tightly clustered squadron of fighters. The explosion, and resulting shrapnel, was breathtaking. The two X-wings that did survive peeled off and limped back out of the system.

"Thanks for leading them to me, Five," Syal laughed.

_"I have no idea what you're talking about, Dunter, but thanks for saving my skin. You even managed to disable their freighter while you were out of it."_

"Just lucky, sir." Checking the sensor readout, Syal could see that the rest of the squadron had rallied and successfully finished the task they had set out to do.

"_Well, like a very wise pilot once told me, half of what makes a pilot good is that he or she has an abundance of luck with them. Let's hope yours lasts for a very long time."_

**(-]VII[-) (-]VII[-)**

In terms of missions, Syal wasn't sure if she could consider it a success. Sure they managed to secure the pirate base and take on the added complications of the second enemy group without a single pilot loss. But half the squadron still wound up in a bacta tank and five brand new Eta-5 interceptors were now doing their best Jawa surplus impersonations.

"How're you doing?" Syal asked her bacta-floating wingman.

"_Getting better," _Tamith grimaced. _"Won't be medically cleared to fly for at least a week."_

"Arkandi, Logan, and Nora are also out," Syal said sympathetically, gesturing to the other tanks in the med-bay. "And Minata and Garix both have concussions. You're in good company."

"_It really is embarrassing you know. I get taken out, on my first engagement no less, not by manned fighters or some high tech weapon, but by an exploding cargo crate," _Tamith groaned. _"My mother's never going to let me live this down."_

"Your mother?"

"_Oh, you didn't know?"_

"Know?" Syal repeated blankly.

"_I'm Admiral Cha Niathal's daughter. Didn't want to be obvious about it so I just used my middle name," _Tamith sighed, looking resigned. _"We're even distantly related to the Ackbar family. Doesn't do me a whole lot of good though. Heck, the only reason why I joined starfighter command is because it was expected of me. Mom's an admiral, my great uncle was the hero of the rebellion. You're lucky Dunter that you don't have your people staring at you, expecting you to do great things."_

Syal just nodded, her stomach doing a guilty swooping. "Yeah, lucky."

"_Good luck out there,"_ Tamith waved a webbed hand. "_Don't get hit by any exploding cargo crates."_

"Thanks, I'll do my best not to," Syal breathed. She hesitated for a second, the truth about her identity on the tip of her tongue. It should have been easy to say. After all, Tamith had already admitted her own relations to a higher-up and would probably understand. But the words didn't come. "You just take care and get better soon, okay Tamith? I feel odd going up without you as my wingman."

"_Hey, you're getting Corporal Darksun as my replacement. You can't get any better than that."_

"I was trying to spare your feelings," Syal deadpanned.

"_Beating up on a person in a bacta tank is low, Dunter," _Tamith matched Syal's tone.

"Next time don't become fried squid then."

"_Har har. Get going, Flight Officer. You should have something better to do than abusing the injured."_

"I do, actually," Syal checked her watch. "High Command isn't done with us yet. There's another briefing in ten."

"_Already? It's barely been five hours since the last engagement. What's the rush?"_

"Don't know, but it's definitely important," Syal said. "Scuttlebutt says that the whole Outer Rim Fleet Group is being mobilized. A comm-blackout has also been ordered."

"_Now I really regret being taken out by a cargo bin. Take care, Dunter."_

"I will," Syal nodded. "You too."

The Corellian-bred pilot left the med-bay with some urgency, meeting up with several other members of her squadron as they rushed through the _Galactic-_class assault carrier and to the briefing room. There was an electric atmosphere in the air, as if everyone knew that something big was going down, but didn't quite know what. Syal felt her heart speed up as she took her seat, alert eyes focusing on the squadron leader at the front of the room.

Colonel Zindra Daine appeared to be apathetic to it all as she stood at the front of the room with a datapad in hand. "The intel we've gathered from the pirate base, freighters, and prisoners, suggests that there is a main pirate base that has since operated outside our knowledge located within the Utegetu Nebula. Our analysts think that this pirate base has actually been coordinating attacks on restoration projects and convoys in this area of the Outer Rim. What is strange, however, is that the intel gathered also suggests that the reason why the pirates we encountered had so much of their loot still on them is because they were using their base as a warehouse of sorts, one of many in a giant network."

The image on the vid-screen at the front of the room changed and a web-like network of lines formed between various star systems in the region.

"As you might be able to see, the main base we've just located has been acting as a command and control center for this network and has to be taken out," Colonel Daine explained. "The _Dodanna _will be joining up with the Outer Rim Security Fleet under Rear Admiral Kadra Bres-Durron to launch the attack on this pirate base."

"Do we have information as to the pirates' defensive capabilities?" VibroSword Thirteen, Tiran Vash, spoke up.

"Next to none," Colonel Daine replied crisply. "The base is located in a nebula, which makes scans out of the question. The few people intel managed to get inside the base stopped reporting in within a day of their arrival. All we know is that they have defensive capabilities, and that is the extent of it."

"So we're sending an entire Fleet Group in blind?" Jayne Darksun frowned.

Colonel Daine released a slow breath as she eyed the members of her squadron currently present. "I'll be honest with you people. The brass and High Command are under a great deal of pressure to show some results. Four years of hunting down one pirate group after another with seemingly no end in sight has eroded much of the public's trust in the Galactic Alliance's ability to protect its member states. This is the first substantial lead they've managed to get in all that time, and with this being an election year for many of the senators, well you can imagine what everyone above our pay grade is saying. Unfortunately, I happen to agree with the politicians and higher ups. We have to do something that will restore the name and reputation of the Galactic Alliance Navy. Remaining cautious, wary, as pirate groups in other sectors continue to pillage is not something we want to do."

"I agree," Rykos Kre'fey harrumphed. "It is high time we show the pirates that they cannot do what they have been doing without serious consequences. I imagine that once we take this base, we'll find the key to unravel pirate operations in other sectors as well."

"That's the spirit," Colonel Daine said dryly. "As Corporal Kre'fey astutely pointed out, this may be the turning point we've been looking for. Unfortunately, this turning point also stinks of a trap. There is not much we can do, though, but remain vigilant and trust in our squadmates. Your mission summaries will be delivered to your bunks as usual. A fleet-wide briefing will commence once we rendezvous with the Outer Rim Security Fleet. That is all, dismissed."

**(-]VIII[-) (-]VIII[-)**

"Flight Officer."

"Corporal," Syal glanced up at her new wingman.

"The seat taken?" Jayne Darksun gestured to the seat on the other side of the mess-hall bench. The hall itself was nearly empty due to the late hour.

"No, go ahead, sir."

"Mess-hall, drop the rank," Jayne laughed, sliding her tray of food onto the table and taking a seat. "What are you doing up at this hour? Obviously not here for a midnight snack."

"Just nervous about the upcoming mission," Syal waved the briefing datapad in the air. "Compared to our last run, we barely have any intel this time around. And considering how our last run ended up, that doesn't really fill me with confidence."

"I know what you mean," Jayne absently bit into a fruit and gestured with it as she spoke. "But orders are orders, even if they are terrible ones that are liable to get us killed. It's what we signed up for after all. It's either us or defenseless civilians who'll stand even less of a chance if these pirates keep operating. We'll get through it, though, Dunter. Just stick close to my fighter."

"You've been through these types of missions before?"

"Kind of," Jayne said. "My dad used to fill my head with these absurd stories he'd get from the holovids. There was this one time he told me about this skirmish the old Rogue Squadron had gotten themselves in, back in the days of the warlords. Just a group of twelve fighters against an entire wing of TIEs."

"I heard that one too," Syal brightened. "Rogue Squadron went down in a blaze of glory, nearly took out three whole squadrons, and half the squad actually survived."

"Your dad a war-nut too?" Jayne smirked.

"Something like that," Syal said sheepishly. "Your dad one?"

"Something like that," Jayne mimicked. "Look, Dunter. It's not just us VibroSwords, but the entire Outer Rim Security Fleet and all their squadrons as well. We'll get the job done and return in one piece."

"Yeah, but we're the only squadron at half-strength."

"We're the only squadron with E-Fives. Relax for a moment, Dunter. Reviewing the mission briefing a billionth time isn't going to make intel magically pop up out of nowhere."

"You're right," Syal breathed. "You're right. It's just…"

"Dunter?"

"Never mind," Syal shook her head. How could she explain the legacy she was hoping to continue, her drive to make her father proud? What would Lysa Dunter know about the pressures of being the daughter of a war-hero, of expecting great things for herself because of the almost god-like reputation her father had obtained in his years of service? Her hands absently curled into fists as she fought against a swell of frustration.

"Hey," Jayne set her tray aside and leaned forward. "If there's something on your mind, better get it out now. The last thing you want is to be distracted on top of all the wonderful pluses our upcoming mission has. I'd like to think the person guarding my six has her head together."

Again Colonel Daine's words echoed in Syal's head. _Do you rather they become friends with Lysa Dunter, trust Lysa Dunter to watch their backs? _This time, Syal couldn't ignore them as easily.

"What if…" Syal began, her eyes locked onto the tabletop in front of her.

"What if…?" Jayne prompted gently.

"What if I'm not who I said I am?" Syal managed to get out in one breath.

Jayne was silent for a long moment, and Syal forced herself to look up at the corporal almost fearfully. There were a myriad of emotions playing across Jayne's face. Finally, the corporal offered the younger woman a faint smile. "I'd say that would be a very strange coincidence. That move back there in the Tythe system, the one torp to half a squad of fighters, that something your war-nut dad taught you?"

Syal nodded mutely, somewhat confused by the corporal's wry smile.

"Though so," Jayne said, almost to herself. Jayne swallowed nervously, glancing about the empty mess-hall, before refocusing on Syal. "Let's just get this out of the way. Hi, I'm Corporal Lujayne Darklighter. You're Wedge Antilles' daughter. Syal, right?"

Syal stared blankly, eyes wide. "_You're_ General Gavin Darklighter's daughter?"

"Yup, your dad taught my dad everything he knew," Lujayne said, sheepishly rubbing the back of her head. "You nearly gave me a heart attack with that stunt at Tythe. Chalked up to dumb luck of a green pilot. Should have known better, but your disguise helped me convince myself otherwise."

Still speechless, Syal tried to come up with something other than silent gaping. Lujayne, however, just laughed, looking relieved as she continued to speak. "I picked up my alias probably for the same reason you did. Didn't want anyone comparing me to what my father did. Nearly give General Celchu an earful when I realized that my new C.O. knew who I was."

"I know what you mean," Syal finally managed, a timid smile growing as she saw the humor in the situation. "He's a lot craftier than I gave him credit for. I mean, the both of us ending up on the same squadron?"

"No kidding. Wow, and now we're wingmates?"

"Antilles and Darklighter, flying again," Syal said, emitting a relieved laugh of her own. "Maybe this is what my sister meant when she said she knew something about my squadmates."

"Sister?"

"Myri, she's a year younger."

"I have three brothers and a sister," Lujayne offered, swinging around and laying herself out on the length of the bench. "My dad apparently wanted to keep the Darklighter tradition of having a giant family."

"Four siblings! Are they all in the navy like you?"

"Nah, I was the only crazy one. My two older brothers are in the civilian sector, government workers on Chandrila. My own little sis, Iani, is attending Chandrila's top university and studying engineering. My little brother, Nawar, is studying law. They're trying to make their names doing something other than vaping bad guys and blowing things up."

"Yeah, we're definitely insane, flying against legends," Syal said. Just like most of the galaxy knew her family name, the Darklighters were no less famous. One had flown and died alongside Luke Skywalker during a Death Star run, the other had inherited Rogue Squadron after Wedge stepped aside. Gavin Darklighter's likeness was still used in recruiting holos for Starfighter Command.

"Don't think of it that way," Lujayne shook her head, straightening up into a seated position. "Think of it as flying alongside them. Every time I go out, I like to think my dad's flying right alongside me. Everything he knows, all his little tricks, he taught them to me. Every chapter in our lives, in their lives, had a beginning at one point. We're just beginning to write our books and we're lucky to have them guiding our hands in the process. We hid our identities why? Because we didn't want other people telling us what to write, we wanted to make our own story. So don't think about yourself as competing with your dad, trying to one-up him and the weight his name carries. He's your wingman, and all you're doing is complimenting his own story, continuing it, with your own."

"I…I've never thought of it that way before."

"When I was a green pilot, neither did I," Lujayne said softly.

"What changed?"

"My big brothers," Lujayne answered. "Both were adopted so the galaxy never really looked to them as people who would carry on dad's legacy. But they told me that they would do it anyway, in their own ways, showing that the Darklighter name is more than just blood. They could care less that dad's an ace pilot, and general in the Galactic Alliance Navy. He's just 'dad' to them, and they'll do as he taught them, making however big or small a part of the galaxy they're in a better place."

Syal took it all in, a weight in her stomach evaporating as she let herself truly relax. All the stress and pressure she had created, both by hiding her name and trying to match up to her father's name, was slowly dissolving. For the first time in a long while, she felt her spirits rise, along with a sense of confidence she hadn't known she had.

Even with the foreboding mission on the horizon, it no longer looked as gloomy as it had before. Slowly, mentally, she emerged out from the shadows of the past, actually looking forward to whatever the future might bring.

An Antilles and Darklighter were in the same squadron again, flying as wingmen.

Galaxy, watch out, here they come.

**(-]Chapter end[-)**

**A\N: **In addition to this early update, part two of this storyline will be out on the arbitrary day of June 10th. Pretty much every member of VibroSword is an original character except for Syal and Zindra, once again owing to the fact that the sandbox of EU canon of this time period is unsurprisingly sparse in terms of non-Jedi pilot characters of any note. I figured a non-Jedi POV of my little universe was needed and Syal was conveniently there, her adventure continues next time on the Origami Fish channel =).

Hope you all have a good summer!


	8. Chapter 8

**Dramatis Personae:**

Zindra Daine; VibroSword Leader (Human Female)

Nixa; Jedi Knight, VibroSword Two (Trandoshan Male)

Rykos Kre'fey; VibroSword Three (Bothan Male)

Arkandi Linz; VibroSword Four (Bith Male)

Lujayne Darklighter; VibroSword Five aka Jayne Darksun (Human Female)

Erin Dodanna; VibroSword Six aka Nora Dod (Human Female)

Syal Antilles; VibroSword Seven aka Lysa Dunter (Human Female)

Tamith Kartia Niathal; VibroSword Eight (Mon Calamari Female)

Invir Yanka ; VibroSword Nine aka Minata Jandi (Human Male)

Adrina Devis; VibroSword Ten aka Hellena Altis (Human Female)

Brun Garix; VibroSword Eleven (Devoronian Male)

Logan Tal; VibroSword Twelve (Human Male)

Ran Varth; VibroSword Thirteen akaTiran Vash (Human Male)

Rain Salis; VibroSword Fourteen (Twi'lek Male)

Emerging from the Past: Part Two

**(-]I[-) (-]I[-)**

The lounge of the next-gen _Galactic_-class battle carrier, the _Dodonna, _was unusually packed as fighter-pilots and crew alike mingled about. Despite being a military vessel, the lounge was fairly large, big enough to accommodate the several hundred individuals wanting to blow off steam between shifts. Dance music was playing and decorum was temporarily abandoned for the few hours everyone was there. Though no alcohol was being served, everyone seemed to be lost in the revelry, with smiles and laughter all around.

The seriousness of the upcoming mission was not lost on anyone. One only had to look out the nearest viewport to see the largest gathering of Galactic Alliance warships since the Yuuzhan Vong War. All of the Outer Rim Security Fleet that wasn't already tied down was present, nearly thirty capital ships and countless supporting vessels drifted outside.

There was a general sense that the pirates they would soon be facing wouldn't stand a chance. That there was no possible way the gathered outlaws could go up against some of the best and most advanced ships the Galactic Alliance had to offer. Regardless of the lack of intel, it was just impossible for them to win, wasn't it?

The music was a dull din in the background to Syal Antilles, however. She was lost in her own thoughts as she continued to stare out the lounge's observation window at the vast array of stars. Eldest daughter of one of the most decorated and recognized pilots in recent times, the upcoming mission continued to leave her uncertain. The deployment of the entire Security Fleet appeared to be overkill, a decision made by politicians anxious for a resounding victory against a pirate threat that had been menacing the galaxy for the past four years. But there were still too many unknowns, too many things that could go disastrously wrong.

"Nice view, out there, isn't it?"

Syal was shaken from her thoughts. She turned and saw a red-haired woman standing next to her. "Sorry, what?"

The other woman motioned back to the observation port. "The view outside. Amazing isn't it? All those stars and ships."

"Yeah," Syal agreed automatically.

"Look over there. There's the _Alderaan's Fury. _What a relic, she may have been new two decades ago, but tech has definitely improved since then." To Syal, the woman appeared to only be in her mid-thirties at the latest. An NCO to boot by the fairly provocative clothing she was wearing. No self-respecting officer would have been caught dead wearing the articles of non-clothing the red-head was wearing. Syal hadn't yet acquainted herself with the crew of the _Dodonna_, so she supposed that the woman was either a part of the bridge-crew or engineering—two sections of the ship she rarely saw. "Course, that's nothing compared to the pair of Mon Cal Eighties off her starboard."

"The Eme-Cees 80s aren't all that bad," Syal shook her head, mentally tracking the trio of Mon Calamari cruisers as she recalled her father's stories. "They can still take a pounding. If you want to talk about relic, how about the _Victory_-class Star Destroyers the Empire is still running around with? Those things have been in service since before the Galactic Civil War."

"True, but in the end, the Nineties and Eighties still have the same flaws they were built with, still vulnerable just like anything else. There are plenty of Eme-Cee corpses floating around on all those old battlefields. The Galactic Alliance didn't upgrade to the Galactics and the Rejuvenators because they liked the paint scheme better. Makes you wonder why they stuck all those aging fossils into one fleet and sent them to the Outer Rim in the first place."

"Most of the trouble has been from the Colonies to the Core," Syal said. "Maybe the brass wanted the more advanced ships towards where the hotspots would be."

"Doesn't say much for that Admiral Bres-Durron and the fleet she has with her, does it?" The red-haired woman snorted. "Heard she only has her fleet and rank because the higher-ups took pity on her after Bel Iblis passed on. Didn't want to undermine the old man's last wishes so they gave her a token fleet and the impossible task of controlling crime in the Outer Rim. Fat lot of good that did either party. I mean, she's had three years to make the statistics look pretty, kriff some numbers here and there, and she can't even do that. You said that most of the trouble was Core-ward, but crime in the Outer Rim is as bad as it is in the Core. Only, because there aren't enough wealthy planets with political pull out here, it doesn't get as much publicity. Governments rise and collapse, and those Core-ward politicians don't even bat an eyelash. So long as the trade continues and the credits keep rolling in, they could care less."

Syal nervously looked around. Bad-mouthing a superior officer, even if there was no decorum, was something her father had taught her never to do. Normally she would have passed off the other woman's sentiments to too much ale, but with the taps shut off per regulation, Syal wasn't quite sure what to think. "I'm sure the admiral is doing her best with what she has. Even the combined Core-ward fleets aren't having any success tamping down on the crime. I think everyone's grasping at straws."

"You feel safe going into battle alongside an admiral whose very career probably hinges on the successfulness of this attack?" The red-haired woman rolled her eyes derisively. "I _know _everyone's grasping for straws and the politicians are looking for a scapegoat. Who better than the 'youngest Admiral' in a century, who wasn't quite ready to fill in the shoes of the legend of Bel Iblis?"

Syal finally had had enough, her eyes flashing angrily as she gripped the silky material of the half-vest the other woman was wearing. "Look, I don't know if your CO handles the nonsense you're spouting, but it has no place on this ship. They wouldn't have made Bres-Durron an admiral if they didn't think she had what it took to get the job done. We'll get through this, we'll make the difference this galaxy needs. I've never even met the woman, but I'll follow her because I respect the chain of command."

The other woman covered Syal's hands with her own. There was an initial jerk of surprise on the red-head's part, before her expression darkened. "Let go of me, now."

"The Galactic Alliance needs people to believe in it," Syal hissed, not relenting. "Doubters like you, those that are demoralized because things haven't been going their way for the past four years, they need to shape up and actually pitch in. Four years is nothing compared to all the things the fighters of the Rebellion era had to go through. Compared to the set-backs faced by the New Republic during the Vong War. We should be grateful that the casualties haven't even reached the thousands yet even when our people have been chasing an enemy for over four years. So what if we've been losing supply shipments and resources? We still have our lives, the capacity to make a difference regardless of the hardships we face."

"Space that," the red-head snapped. "What good is capacity when the results speak for themselves? This galaxy is going to Kessel in a cargo crate, and only fools believe that anything we do now can make a difference. Wonder if all those old timers who dreamt up the initial rebellion and the failed New Republic ever considered that their dream could hurt so many people. What a waste of life, all of them. Should have just let the Imps continued to do their thing."

Syal felt a surge of fury and snapped out one fist, catching the other woman in the face. The woman staggered backwards, a hand instinctively going up to her now split lip. A wicked smile crossed her features. "So high and mighty."

"People have died for their dream of a better galaxy, have sacrificed family and friends so that others wouldn't have to. That dream is still possible," Syal snarled. "If you're so disillusioned, why are you even serving anyways?"

"Look, little girl, I'm not the only one who feels as I do," the red-head hissed back. She gestured to the crowd and made a sharp whistling sound. The music quieted, and the woman said aloud. "Who here really thinks that the attack on this pirate base will make a difference in the long run? That all the crime plaguing the galaxy will miraculously be cured just because of a politician's hope and dreams? That this is the end we're all looking for?"

Syal was stunned into silence when a vast majority of the people only chuckled dryly and shook their heads in amusement. Others just raised their glasses of drink in mock salute with sarcastic smirks, as if they all knew that they were just going through the motions. Getting their hopes up only to see it dashed to pieces. There were no raised hands agreeing with the red-head's questions, not even half-hearted ones. The fact that so many people openly admitted it, and seemed comfortable doing so, kept Syal utterly bewildered.

"See, Flight Officer," the woman said patronizingly. "Most of us have been fighting, and hunting, and zooming from one system to the next for a bit longer than you. We know the realities out here. At one time we too believed that we could make a difference, that we could change the galaxy for the better. But for all our advanced ships, our latest tech, our best offensives, all of that yielded pretty close to zero in return. Piracy is still rampant, the slave-trade has only intensified, and no matter how many pirate bases we take out, another one always pops up. This is a navy that is fed up with all our futile searches, of a general public that curses us because we can't best a group of rag-tag deadbeats. You have such pretty ideals, but they're just that, ideals. Not reality. Even your own shipmates have more or less given up, and the same is true on nearly every vessel in this fleet."

"We _can_ make a difference," Syal said, unsure if she was trying to convince herself or the others.

"The look on your face earlier told me otherwise, Rookie. You're full of doubt, no shame in admitting it."

"I _was_ full of doubt," Syal countered, slowly regaining her confidence. In the face of so much opposition, she knew now where she stood. "I'm not anymore. We can do this and make the galaxy better."

"Even if you're the only one on this ship that thinks so?"

"She's not alone, you piece of bantha dung," the voice of Lujayne Darklighter cut in. The corporal took her place next to Syal. "I couldn't give a womprat's ass if you think this is a lost cause, but so long as my wingman believes we can do this, I will too."

"Only poor excuses for soldiers give up when the going gets tough," Corporal Rykos Kre'fey, VibroSword Three, added, emerging from the crowd of soldiers. "And I have yet to see any on this ship."

"Sure the Galactic Alliance Navy may have little to show for their four years of effort, but are you all going to stop trying now?" VibroSword Six, Nora Dod spoke up, leaning on a crutch. "We're the only hope many of these worlds have, the only line of defense. If we throw in the towel, what does that say about our commitment to our duties, to the legacy of the corps we are a part of?"

"We're going to win here, and no matter how many times these pirates keep popping up, we'll keep on winning," Tiran Vash, VibroSword Thirteen, said determinedly. "If it takes ten years to stomp out this threat, then ten years is what I'll spend to see the job through. The Galactic Alliance Navy meant something at one time, still means something. I'll be damned if we're the generation that disgraces what it means to be a part of it."

"Nice speech," the red-headed woman said sarcastically.

"We'll back it up too," Syal said snidely. Other members of her squadron joined in around her. "We're VibroSword squadron, and if we have to take out this pirate nest and any others by our lonesome, we will."

"We'd definitely prefer some backup," VibroSword Nine, Minata Jandi said quickly. "But the others are right. We're in it for the long haul, win or lose."

Hellena Atis, VibroSword Ten, pinned her gaze on the crewmembers who had agreed with the red-haired non-commissioned officer. "The _Dodonna_ is named after a great man, a leader to his people in a time of turbulence. What do you all say we make the _Dodonna_ a leader in the image of its namesake, a beacon that will tell the galaxy the Galactic Alliance Navy isn't out of the fight just yet? Will you stand with VibroSword, allow us to be the torch to make this galaxy brighter again? Or are you truly content with the way things are, content with just existing as members of the navy in name only?"

The crew members and other fighter pilots in the room shifted, some looking ashamed. The red-haired woman, however, held the gazes of the VibroSwords unflinchingly. "Again, pretty words, pretty ideals. You haven't been out here as long as some of us. You're all just kids. What can you do?"

"Give us a chance, and you'll see," Syal answered unflinchingly. "Give us a chance and we'll show you, this fight is far from over."

To the surprise of the VibroSwords, the scantily-clad red-haired woman folded her arms in front of her chest and almost seemed to smile. "I definitely look forward to it."

**(-]II[-) (-]II[-)**

"Told you," Zindra Daine couldn't stop laughing.

"That's 'I told you...'"

"Sir," Zindra finished, still shaking her head. "I can't wait to see the expression on Syal's face when she realizes she just decked the fleet commander. "

"She has a good right hook," Admiral Kadra Bres-Durron winced as she smeared a bacta paste over her split lip.

"She should. Her father is Wedge Antilles, and her mother was one of those super spies."

"Big deal," Kadra shrugged. "My father was a Rebel slicer and my mom a streetwalker. It doesn't mean I'll be a computer whiz or start selling my body for profit anytime soon. Parents aren't everything. I like that Mando saying I learned back in the war, the one about not caring who your parents are, only what type of parent you'll end up being. So what if that girl is her father's daughter, she's still her own person. Though, if today is anything to go by, that kid should have a pretty eventful future ahead of her."

"My whole squadron has a lot to prove, not only to others, but to themselves too," Zindra said whimsically. "They may not have the pressure of a galactic war like we did, but they're still trying to find themselves."

"Good start, though," Kadra said softly, sitting back into a chair. "Thirty-one capital ships in this fleet. Only eight had anyone willing to fight me, fight for the Galactic Alliance, without being ordered to. Sixteen-thousand kriffing people with any backbone out of a hundred and eighty thousand. And yours was the first one that actually had someone take a swing at me. We need this victory bad, Zindra. The Galactic Alliance Navy needs this victory, a victory that actually means something."

"Is it true the brass will try to force you into retirement if this goes wrong?" Zindra asked, sounding pained.

"That's the rumor," Kadra exhaled, staring up at the bulkhead. "And it's strange, but a part of me doesn't care too. I have three kids and a crazy Jedi husband that I haven't seen in person for two years; they'd actually be doing me a favor if they finally kicked me out. Why _you_ came back I'll never know."

"Someone had to lead the next generation of heroes."

"Argh! Don't mention that word, Colonel. That's an order." Kadra ran her hands through her hair in aggravation. "'Hero' gets used so often these days it doesn't mean anything. So much focus is put on those 'heroes' that no one seems to care about the supporting cast, or everyone else trying to do their part. Just because we're desperate for leaders doesn't mean coming up with a hero will solve anything."

"But that's part of the problem," Zindra pointed out. "The public's just as disillusioned as a majority of the armed forces. The graduates from the academy are barely replacing those who leave the service after finishing a single tour of duty. The Yuuzhan Vong War had the Jedi, had figureheads people could look to and say 'because of them we're going to win this war.' We don't have any of those. Even Rogue squadron has become just another elite starfighter squadron struggling to bring order to this galaxy of ours. Unless someone distinguishes themselves from the 'supporting cast' as you say, everyone is going to continue to expect the status quo, continue to lose hope."

Kadra nodded wearily. "At least your VibroSwords seem to believe in their words. Think they have what it takes to back them up? To become the leaders, the... heroes, this galaxy needs?"

"They're not really going to have a choice in the matter," Zindra said sourly. "The politicians and higher-ups already have this great unveiling planned. The only thing I can do is get them in the right mindset so they won't be overwhelmed when the time comes."

"Good luck with that."

"Yeah."

"You okay? Having another squadron?" Kadra's voice became gentler. The two had actually met several times over the course of the war. The last being a few weeks after the war had ended, in a nightclub where Zindra was just trying to forget the many people she had lost.

"Don't really have a choice in the matter," Zindra repeated, though sounding regretful as she did. "What was I supposed to tell General Celchu, 'no thanks, I'd rather keep on feeling depressed and alone?'"

"You could have, you know."

"Yeah," Zindra idly began bouncing a small ball off the nearby wall. "When he first came to me with that idea, I almost did."

"What changed your mind?"

"I spent three years in a mental hospital after the war," Zindra whispered softly, eyes closed. "That place is so full with soldiers like me. Those who'd seen planets fall to the Vong, lost entire divisions to the monstrosities they put into the fields. While everyone else on the outside, all the Jedi and heroes, were out starting families, having the times of their lives, the only thing I could focus on was everyone I had lost. If they couldn't be happy, have families of their own, what gave me the right? Why did I have to live when they all died? I outlived three squadrons, the Firehawks, Twin Suns, and Barefoots, nearly thirty people. I remember their every name, their faces, the stories they shared with me, and every night when I closed my eyes, I would see them once more. When I got out, I vowed to do something to make a difference, to make sure the government those pilots, my friends and family, died for would continue to function."

"That why you signed up?"

"Nah, the last thing I wanted was to re-enlist, no matter the shiny rank they wanted to give me," Zindra opened slightly reddened eyes as she forced a smile. "No, I re-enlisted because General Celchu practically begged me to. Said I would be helping to restore the pride and honor of the Galactic Alliance Navy."

"That was kind of low of him," Kadra muttered darkly. "He knows how badly the war messed you up."

"But I was grateful in a way," Zindra murmured. "He gave me a purpose again. As much as I hate being in charge of another squadron, now that I have one, I'd hate not having another squadron more now. I can actually do more good in the cockpit of a starfighter than in the line of a soup kitchen. If the VibroSwords are going to be that hero the Galactic Alliance is looking for, at least in the media and to the minds of the politicians, I'm going to make damned sure that the VibroSwords will be the leaders and heroes on the battlefield and in reality. It's the least I can do for all the others who died to get me here. Isn't that why you took over Garm Bel Iblis' fleet instead of settling down with your crazy Jedi husband? To make sure everything Bel Iblis fought for wouldn't go down in flames?"

Kadra nodded silently, her own eyes falling close. "It's not easy, you know, being the youngest admiral in the navy, not to mention the protégé of an old war-hero considered a rebel even by his allies. Everything Garm Bel Iblis warned me about, of the way the government was formed and how it would doom itself, has come true. There are days when I wonder, just why in Kessel am I still fighting for the Galactic Alliance? It threw Garm aside when he became a bother, and then begged him back when they needed his ships. The Jedi used our fleets for their spur-of-the-moment campaigns, and then just left us alone without so much of a 'thank you for your time.' I'm half-inclined to let the Galactic Alliance fall, if only to tell all those who had criticized Garm 'I told you so.' But then I think of all the years he devoted it to it, practically his entire life, and I just have to suck it up. I'm fighting not for the Galactic Alliance though, but to give my kids a stable place to live, to grow up. A chance to be actual kids and not the child soldiers the Jedi seem so fond of employing."

"I guess we all have our own ghosts, skeletons from the past that continue to haunt us."

"It feels like no matter what we do, we're still caught in their grasp. With the number of skeletons we have, do you think it'll be possible for us to someday live without thinking back on them?"

"I hope so," Zindra answered honestly. "Because really, that's all I have at the moment; hope. Hope to make a better galaxy, to do everyone I lost proud. Hope to come out of this engagement without losing anyone, to finally be able to retire with a smile on my face. Even when I try to keep my new squad at arm's length, I still care about them anyways, so I hope they have a brighter and happier future than I did at their age. And then maybe, just maybe, one day everything will turn out for the better. Maybe this will be my one squad that doesn't go down in flames around me."

"Well let's hope those kids of yours are as good as what's being planned for them. Heroes or not, I think we can all use a little hope every now and then."

**(-]III[-) (-]III[-)**

Due to the 'peacetime' status the galaxy was supposedly in, the _Dodonna_, capable of carrying six squadrons of fighters, was only equipped with four. Most of the Outer Rim Security Fleet was at similar strength, with no politician wanting to be seen as callous and hawkish so soon after an inter-galactic war by approving additional funding from an already cash-strapped government. The Galactic Alliance Navy was _supposed _to have had a handle on the pirate situation, but that couldn't have been further from the truth.

Truthfully, central command had no idea where the pirates continued to get their ships, supplies, and manpower. Had no idea where the main bases were, or even how many people they were facing. Captured pirates were of a wide variety of races, all with different motives and ideologies. It was as if the pirate problem had popped out of nowhere. Two years of peace and calm, and suddenly the space lanes became more perilous to travel than they were during the Yuuzhan Vong War. Colonies were being raided up and down the galaxy. Supply ships hijacked, refugees kidnapped. The stability of the two post-war years had all but vanished in several months. And heads had rolled numerous times after several costly campaigns failed to stem the rising crime wave.

But all that didn't matter to Syal Antilles or her squadron. They were determined to make this mission count, to succeed when countless others before them hadn't. The entire crew was gathered in the hangar bay of the _Dodonna_, awaiting the fleet-wide address by the fleet commander, Admiral Kadra Bres-Durron. The VibroSwords were in the front row, hands clasped behind them as a giant holo of the admiral appeared from emitters in the ceiling.

"Oh," Syal blanched, instantly recognizing the angular features of the admiral's face from the previous night.

"Sithspit," Lujayne agreed, turning a color similar to Syal's ghostly face.

"Way to make an impression," Hellena groaned.

_"This is Admiral Kadra Bres-Durron. By now you will have been informed of our mission as well as most of the particulars by your group leaders. We are heading to the Tusken Eye system in the Utegetu Nebula to take out a pirate base identified by intel. No doubt that some of you are viewing this as yet another wild bantha chase. That we're again wasting resources on a foolish endeavor. If you feel that way, tell your group leader and I'll approve of your discharge the moment this campaign is over. For those of you thinking this will be a cakewalk, that the pirates will roll-over for us in the face of our superior firepower, think again. There is a reason High Command is sending an entire fleet group against this pirate enclave. _

_ We are unsure of the numbers at the enemy's disposal, nor have any idea as to what their defenses are. We only know where they are and that they must be taken out as soon as possible. To put things in perspective, the amount of raw material, tech, and supplies these pirate groups have seized over the past four years is enough to feed nearly twelve billion people, was worth enough credits to build at least five Star Destroyers. If this is the main base, we won't be walking in on ill-fed, untrained pirates, but scrupulous mercenaries who have had access to some of the best this galaxy has had to offer._

_ All of you have trained for this moment. Trust your wingmen, your squadmates, your fleet groups. I fully intend to emerge from this engagement victorious, dealing a serious blow to the rampant piracy that has plagued the galaxy. Even if the piracy continues, this is one less location they can use to launch their attacks on the innocent men and women of the Galactic Alliance and her allies. Do your duty, what we all signed up for when we swore the oath to defend the Galactic Alliance. _

_I have designed VibroSword squadron from the Dodonna as the spearhead of our attack. The Mawrunner's FireSpar squadron and the Blue Diver's Gray squadron will be in support. Crews, to your stations. Pilots, to your fighters. It's time to show the galaxy they can still trust us to protect them from the things that go bump in the night."_

The holo vanished, and the hangar was instantly filled with a buzz of activity. Crews began to fuel and arm fighters with various payloads, last minute maintenance was carried out, and assault shuttles were prepped. In one corner of the hangar, a team of marines were doing equipment checks. They would be the ones boarding whatever enemy base they found, and needed to be prepared for all manner of disasters. Other pilots were leaping into their cockpits and waited for their astromech units to be lowered.

Two pilots in particular, however, stayed where they were.

"I punched an admiral," Syal managed to get out, looking completely mortified as she stared at her hand. "I punched an admiral."

"And I called her a piece of bantha dung," Lujayne added, looking similarly horrified as they stood amidst the hive of activity going on around them.

"Our dads are going to kill us," Syal breathed.

"Come on you two!" Colonel Daine barked out. "You heard the admiral, to your fighters!"

Both young women quickly shook themselves from their shock and began to jog over to their Eta-Five interceptors. "Think we got assigned point for what we said to her the other night?"

"No doubt," Lujayne breathed. "Only question is whether this is supposed to be an honor or a punishment."

"What about the other two squadrons backing us up? Know anything about them?"

"The FireSpars are ChaseX's, only know their commander by reputation; apparently he's a young Jedi from Dathomir, from the first Nightsister clan to ally with the Jedi. Quin…Lai I think it was. The Grays are Alephs under a Colonel Tilath Keer, a Yuuzhan Vong War veteran. We definitely have some competition."

Syal slid into the cockpit and pulled on her flight-helmet. "What are you talking about, sir? We're the VibroSwords. By the time we're done, there won't be anything left for them."

"That's the spirit," Lujayne emitted a laugh, her fighter's canopy closing. "See you outside, Seven."

**]IV[ ]IV[**

The fleet dropped out of hyperspace on the very edge of the Tusken's Eye system in an orderly fashion. The system itself was obscured in clouds of gas, dust, and various other debris; remains of worlds long destroyed by ancient cataclysmic events. The only thing left was its white dwarf sun, shining almost blindingly at the center of the star system and lighting up the space in beautiful shades of orange, green, blue, and flares of red and purple. It was a breath-taking sight, but it was also impervious to scanners.

"Radiation feedback is too strong, I'm getting nothing," Syal said over a private channel, adjusting the dials of her Eta-Five interceptor.

_"Same here, Seven. It looks like we really will be going in blind."_

"For all we know the pirates could have hidden an entire fleet of ships in there and we'd never know," Syal breathed.

_"Then I guess it's time to go in and find out."_

_ "This is VibroSword Leader to Fury of Alderaan, we are deployed and ready to go on your signal."_

_ "FireSpar is likewise ready."_

_ "Gray squadron is good to go."_

_ "This is Admiral Bres-Durron, you have permission to begin your approach. You'll have frigate and picket-ship support a few lightseconds out."_

_ "I copy, Admiral. VibroSwords, form up. Let's peel back the veil and see what's on the other side."_

Syal eased her fighter alongside Lujayne's wing and released a breath. Five of the fourteen members of her squadron were sitting out the fight due to injuries they had sustained in the previous engagement. She was determined to make sure both she and Lujayne didn't join them.

The colorful cloud of the nebula seemed to stretch out towards them as they approached; its appearance deceptively innocent in nature. But somewhere within the beautiful nebula was a pirate base. A large one if intel was right.

"_Switch deflectors to double-front. Reduce throttle to one-third."_ Colonel Daine directed. _"Grays and FireSpars, you still with us?"_

_ "We're on your six, VibroSword. We'll stay in visual distance as best we can." _

The three squadrons streamed forwards, leading six other squadrons into the soupy cloud of gas and dust.

Syal continued to scan the nebula around them, as if hoping she'd see some sign of what they were looking painful slowness, they passed through the outer shroud of the nebula and towards the brilliant 'eye' of Tusken's Eye. And then, as they drew near, they spotted their goal.

_"What in the Force…?" _

_ "Emperor's Bones!"_

Exclamations sounded through the comm-channels as the pirate 'base' emerged before them. It was no ordinary base, but a seemingly random collection of ships all interconnected with one and other through some type of organic-looking material. But what caught everyone's attention was what was at the center of this oddly-shaped structure. It was massive in diameter, spherical in shape, easily the size of a small moon, and still under construction.

Despite that, however, its appearance was forebodingly familiar.

_"Are they building a Death Star?" _VibroSword Fourteen gasped.

_"It's too small to be one," _VibroSword Ten, Hellana Altis argued. _ "That thing is just half the size. And the Death Star never had those weird lumps attached to its surface."_

_ "I guess we know where all the captured supplies ended up," _Lujayne said shakily. "_At least that thing doesn't appear to be on."_

_ "Cut the chatter, they've spotted us. Pick up your visual scanning, enemy fighters, heading our way."_

"I copy," Syal noted. She drew up the view from her long-range cameras. "TIE One-Exes and Tee-Sixty-Five X-Wings by the profile."

_"Where in the Emperor's black bones did pirates get TIE Advances?" _Hellana interjected, sounding wholly insulted.

_ "Long range communications are being jammed. The fleet doesn't know about this."_

_ "Worry about the fleet some other time, Three," _VibroSword Two croaked out in his Trandoshan-accented Basic. _"Worry about the dozens of fighters coming to kill us first."_

_ "Good plan," _Zindra took control. "_Gray squadron, the two dozen fighters on the left. FireSpars, you get the right. VibroSword, we'll slice 'em down the middle. Stay in the cover of our frigate support ships and we'll make it through this. Hopefully Admiral Bres-Durron is only a few minutes back."_

_ "This is it, stay on my wing, Syal." _Lujayne sent over a private channel.

"I copy."

But as the Galactic Alliance forces and pirate groups began to near, a second wave of fighters emerged out from the nebula's gaseous clouds.

"Heads up, what looks like a full wing of Eyeballs at point three-three-two," Syal announced sharply. In the span of a few seconds, the nebula was lit up in continuous flashes of green light as nearly seventy-two TIE fighters screamed into action ahead of the main body rising from the pirate base.

_"Stay on course, Seven."_

Syal double-checked her targeting computer. Lujayne was focusing on a quartet of older T-65 X-wings, apparently just as affronted as Hellena had been about seeing TIE Advanced in the hands of pirates. The T-65's were over three decades old, but could still pack a punch with their laser cannons.

Syal only had several more heartbeats to analyze and designate two of them for herself, before both sides met in a clash of lasers. One enemy X-wing blew apart in a shrapnel-filled blaze. The second tried to dive low and ended up receiving a canopy full of laser fire that sheered the older fighter in half. Syal's interceptor darted through the small cloud of smoking debris, and she brought her fighter around to search for a new target.

Without sensors, everyone, including the pirates, were flying using only their eyes.

And what a sight their eyes could see.

Fighters of both sides were swooping through the clouds of space dust, disappearing and then reappearing, while laser-fire of green and red flared out from every direction. The silhouettes of fighters streaking through opaque clouds of multi-colored gas were back lit by both Tusken's Eye and the explosions of warheads detonating in proximity to one ship or another like flares of lightning in a storm cloud. All around fighters on both sides were engaged in a fierce dogfight, spiraling and twisting every-which way like gnats against the glowing backdrop of space.

Syal's own fighter nimbly cut through the clouds of space-dust like a blade, pursuing one target after another. The nebula whirled about all around her through dizzying turns and graceful arcs. Clumsy TIE fighters were no match for the speed and agility of her interceptor, one by one falling prey to well-timed laser bursts.

Off to the side, she watched as a Galactic Alliance fighter was destroyed by a barrage from trio of enemy fighters, and she and Lujayne promptly teamed up to avenge the pilot.

Lujayne fell behind an enemy X-wing and her lasers chewed apart its rear, sending debris flying in five different directions. Two more TIE fighters vanished in balls of light as VibroSword Five and Seven hunted them down with merciless skill.

Another flight of TIEs swooped in from above, forcing the duo to employ some of the maneuvers they had learned from their fathers. Breaking into a complex weaving motion, Lujayne and Syal darted back and forth with one and other, using the nebula's clouds of gas and debris as natural smoke screens. The enemy TIEs, bent on destroying them, attempted to keep up with the dart-like Eta-Fives, but to no avail. After gaining a sizable lead, both Syal and Lujayne sent their fighters into a sharp turn directly at their pursuers. The unshielded TIE fighters never stood a chance.

Syal let out a triumph cry as her fighter blew through the remains of the four fighters she had slagged in the single pass. Grinning broadly as adrenaline continued to pulse through her veins. But her victorious excitement was short-lived.

_ "Watch it Seven, you got one on your tail!" _Lujayne called out in warning.

From out of nowhere, a TIE Advanced had swooped in and opened fire with a relentless storm of green energy. Little Seven squealed in alarm as the rapid fire attack from the TIE Advanced ate through the Eta-Five's flimsy deflector shields in a matter of seconds. Syal promptly sent her fighter diving through a cloud of purple and orange, but the TIE stayed with her.

"I can't shake him!" Syal shouted over the multitude of alarms sounding in her cockpit. Warning lights were flashing all over the place as the TIE kept up its pursuit, matching her maneuver for maneuver.

_"Hang in there! I'll try to get around!"_

Syal continued to jerk her fighter left and right, but the TIE pilot was skilled enough to keep up with every juke and dive. One laser barrage nearly blew apart her canopy, her failing deflector shields just enough to keep the damage at bay. It didn't stop the back of her canopy from blackening and cracking just enough to activate the emergency mag-con fields."Blast it, Darklighter! Where are you?"

_"V-Sword Seven, this is FireSpar Six, turn at point-oh-seven, I'll cover for you."_

Gritting her teeth, Syal did as ordered. And nearly had a heart-attack as ChaseX came within millimeters of her own fighter, streaking in the opposite direction. The next-gen X-wing's advanced lasers cycled continuously, punching through the spherical cockpit of the TIE Advanced and reducing the fighter to space dust.

"Thanks Six, I owe you a drink."

_"I'm Flight Officer Rordan, Tiom Rordan. You can look me up when this is over, Seven,"_ the ChaseX waggled its wings at her before streaking off in pursuit of another pirate fighter.

Lujayne's fighter flew into formation alongside Syal's. _"You okay in there?"_

Syal had her astromech do a quick diagnostic's report. "Got a little cooked, but I'm okay."

_"V-Swords, FireSpars, Grays, this is the Lancer-frigate Serpentine. We've re-established contact with the rest of the fleet. They'll enter firing range in one minute."_

_ "And not a moment too soon,"_ Lujayne remarked.

Despite the frigates and picket-ships aiding the Galactic Alliance fighters, the pirates just had too many fighters of their own in the field. The remains of Galactic Alliance fighter drifted through the nebula, a grim sign that the battle was taking its toll. Thrice that number was the amount of Galactic Alliance pilots who were alive, but floating helplessly in space by the shattered husks of their fighters. And the battle hadn't even reached its zenith yet.

"Strange, only the fighters are attacking," Syal noted, swinging her fighter behind a T-65 and venting her frustrations on its aft. She blew off two s-foils, which sent the X-wing into an uncontrolled spin out of sight. "The pirate base and those un-attached corvettes and blockade runners are just sitting there."

Just then, Little Seven squealed again. "[_Syal, gravity well generators have been activated.]"_

"What?" Syal double-checked her console. Sure enough, the blinking red-light that indicated an interdiction field was active was glowing bright and strong. At the same time, she saw the rest of the Outer Rim Security Fleet emerged from the outer shroud of the nebula to join the fight.

_"Why in Kessel would they want to keep us here? We've got them out-gunned and out-numbered now!" _Rykos Kre'fey's confusion mirrored that of most of the Galactic Alliance forces.

_"The pirate base!" _VibroSword Fourteen, Rain Salis exclaimed. "_Look, it's breaking up!"_

The myriad of ships that made up the outer-layer of the pirate base all seemed to come to life at once, the organic tubes connecting them falling away one by one.

_"Pirate base, this is Admiral Kadra Bres-Durron. Power down your vessels and surrender and I will see to it that your grievances are heard in a legal setting."_

A flash of green light lanced out from the spherical Death Star-looking structure, nearly blinding everyone who had been looking at it in the process. When the spots cleared from their vision, the sight stunned them completely. One of the MC-80 Mon Calamari cruisers guarding the Admiral's flag, a ship capable of going toe-to-toe with some of the Empire's best back in the days of the Galactic Civil War, had been completely reduced to a field of space debris in a single shot.

_ "If any of you state the obvious about that thing's operational status, I'll shoot you myself,"_ Colonel Daine's voice was harsh. "_VibroSwords, Grays, FireSpars follow me in. We're taking the base down."_

_ "Do we have a plan?" _Gray Leader, Tilath Keer, asked.

_"The thing has enough holes in it already, what with it being only partly finished. I say we fly in there and just keep shooting at important looking things until the thing super novas."_

_ "To take out something that size with just our snubfighters? That's impossible, sir." _Rykos objected.

_"Three, back in the Yuuzhan Vong War, me and my wingman once took out three capital ships in Tee-Sixty-Fives. Don't tell me what's possible and what's not."_

_ "Visual scans detect an array of anti-fighter turrets all over the perimeter of the base," _Tilath reported.

_ "They don't have those turrets inside the base, though," _Quin Lai added.

"_V-Sword Lead copies. Pick your best pilots, the rest can wait outside and keep anyone else from bothering us."_

One of the nodules on the spherical base's outside glowed bright green, and another torrent of energy shot out. This time Nebulon-B vanished in a blazing fireball with all hands. The rest of the Outer Rim Fleet began firing, but that only seemed to provoke whoever was onboard the station. Multiple nodules began glowing, and soon beams of capital-ship-killing energy were filling the nebula in deadly intervals.

"_Three, Five, Seven, with me,"_ Colonel Daine ordered sharply. "_The rest of you stay back with the FireSpars and Grays and cover our rear. Two's in charge until I get back." _

"It's a Pulsar Station," Syal murmured to herself, watching as another superlaser beam obliterated a Star Destroyer. The station loomed closer and closer, and she finally shook herself and toggled her comm-unit. "Lead, I know what that thing is! It's a Pulsar Station."

_"A what?"_

"Back in the days of the Imperial warlords, Ysanne Isard came up with schematics for a scaled-down version of the Death Star meant to take out capital ships. It was a ruse to get Rogue Squadron to depose of a rival, but the plans were feasible. Nothing ever came of them though."

_"Something your parents told you?"_

"Yes," Syal said, her mind racing at lightspeed. She wasn't concerned about keeping her identity a secret anymore. Staying alive at the moment meant more. "My mother showed me and my sister the schematics one time. Had us analyze it as a game."

_"Great, we could use an exhaust port or an easy-to-access power core. It'd save a heck of a lot of ordinance we don't have."_

Syal quickly brought up the schematics, saved in Little Seven's memory, onto her fighter's computer. She flipped through it and then nodded to herself. "Right, I knew I wasn't forgetting it. One of the reasons why it was never produced, apart from the whole moral thing, was the power needed to fire those lasers. Though the power generators were decentralized to counter the flaw of the previous Death Stars, the shields around the nodules have to deactivate for a few seconds before the beam fires due to the huge draw on the smaller reactors. If a power surge happened while one or more of those superlasers were powering up, the resulting blast would pretty much rip the station to shreds. If these pirates followed Isard's schematics, and I'm right, if we focus our fire on those areas, we should be able to at least cripple the thing. I'm having Little Seven send you the schematics now. The thing is, to get the big boom, the timing has to be exact or all we'd do is shut down a superlaser or two. The rest will still be operational."

Another superlaser flashed through the nebula.

"_We'd better work quickly then. Grays, concentrate on the upper hemisphere. FireSpars and the VibroSwords will chew away at the rest. Give a shout once you've hit something that looks important. I'm not so patriotic as to go down with this behemoth."_

Syal adjusted her sweaty grip on the steering column, steering her fighter behind Lujayne's and into one of the gaping holes left by the construction crews. The nearest nodule opened fire, and a dozen fighters quickly raced into the space station before the shields could reactivate. It was immediately clear, however, that getting to the power generators would be no easy task.

_"Pull back on the throttle a little, we don't have much room to maneuver in here,"_ Colonel Daine ordered. _"My ar-eight unit is locking onto the strongest power source in the coordinates Seven sent. I'll make one pass and then blast myself an exit. Feel free to follow or create a hole of your own."_

The surroundings were still blowing by at a pace almost too fast for Syal's eyes to take in. Construction cranes, walkways, hanging piles of durasteel beams, there were so many obstacles and so little time to react. She flinched when one of the catwalks was ripped in two by her barreling fighter, sending debris ricocheting off the hull and tumbling into the gravity-free void of space.

_"Lead, three enemy fighters slipped by us," _Jedi Knight Nixa announced. _"Apologies. But you have two Eyeballs and a TIE Advanced on your tail."_

"Great," Syal groaned. Being VibroSword Seven meant that she just happened to bring up the rear of the formation. "Little Seven, divert power from forward to aft deflector shields. Let's hope these pirates fly even worse than me!"

_"Target sighted, releasing torps now. It's a hit!"_

_ "FireSpar Three releasing torps."_

_ "FireSpar Five, torps away."_

_ "VibroSword Three, target locked. Firing."_

Plumes of fire erupted from all over the endoskeleton of the Pulsar Station, chain-reactions quickly cascading and collapsing structures with multiple detonations. Debris began to fall from above and flares of short-lived fiery explosions rose up from all around.

_"Looks like we hit it when the superlasers were still cycling. At least those guns are out for now. Five, Seven, hope you have better luck, we're on our way out."_

_ "I copy,"_ Lujayne said. _"Seven, any sign of those TIEs?"_

"I can't see any…wait. There they are, they're coming in fast."

_"Targeting next power signature. I'll try to have us home by dinner."_

"Thanks."

Green laser bolts began to flash all around her, gouging out parts of the space station with reckless abandonment. Syal tightened her jaw, her entire being focused on staying on Lujayne's wing. Maneuvering through an under-construction space-station the size of a small moon, with generators blowing up all around you, debris flying everywhere, and three enemy fighters seeking to slag you and your fighter, all the while trying to shield your wingmate, was a lot harder to do than it sounded.

Another explosion, and this time part of her port-side wing was sheared off. Alarms once again began to blare. "Lujayne!"

"_Got it! It's away!" _The glow of two torpedoes leaving Lujayne's fighter seemed to burn itself into Syal's vision. Tense seconds went by before the warheads impacted with an important-looking piece of electrified machinery. The resulting explosion was a lot more intense than the previous ones. _"We got it! Syal, everyone else, get your butt to one of the exit-vectors!"_

"I'm on my way out now!" Syal jammed her steering column to the side, swinging her fighter around in a maneuver none of her pursuers could match. One of the TIEs was smashed by a falling piece of debris and exploded in a ball of fire. The other, trying to steer out of the way of a secondary explosion, veered into the TIE Advanced, and both disappeared in a flash.

All around Syal's cockpit, a blaze of orange began to surround her, but the young pilot could only keep her throttle to full. Little Seven was shrieking continuously, parts of her fighter disintegrating along with the dying space station. At the last possible moment, however, her fighter burst out of a Colonel Daine-made hole, and rocketed away from the pirate base as fast as it possibly could.

"_[Seven hundred meters until safe distance. We won't make it.]"_ Little Seven wailed.

"Quit being such a pessimist!" Syal gritted out, sweat stinging her eyes.

"_[Five hundred meters. With the added damage of the previous torpedo strikes, and the fleet firing on it, the station is detonating.]"_

Were space capable of carrying sound waves, Syal would have been deafened by the massive explosion occurring directly behind her. She did see, however, the powerful display of destruction in her rear scopes. The gaseous plumes and dust of the nebula were all pushed aside by the expanding wave, like a gust of wind blowing through the clouds.

The wind was followed swiftly by a blazing, debris-filled inferno that expanded much faster than a broken-up Eta-Five interceptor could go.

Shortly after, the wall of fire consumed Syal's battered fighter and all went black.

**]V[ ]V[**

"You're alive, pity. Guess you'll have to explain yourself and receive your awards after all."

Syal weakly opened her eyes at the sound of her commanding officer's voice. The wet weightlessness of her situation immediately told her that she was in a bacta tank. The crowd outside meant that she as the only one in her squadron to be in one. "Really," she groaned. "None of you needed a dip?"

"Already had one, thanks," Tamith Niathal held up her webbed hands.

"No one else got consumed by an exploding Death Star," Lujayne said wryly.

"How many times do I have to say it, it wasn't a Death Star," Hellana muttered darkly.

"One more time, at least," Minata laughed. "Good to see you made it through, Seven."

"Thanks," Syal breathed, smiling into her oxygen mask.

"That was some quick thinking. 'Pulsar Station', I believe you called it," Rykos folded his armed in front of his chest. "And don't think I missed Five calling you 'Syal' either."

"Give her a break, Kre'fey, she's in bacta," Bith pilot Arkandi said in exasperation. "She doesn't have to explain herself if she doesn't want to."

"Thanks, Four," Syal nodded tiredly. "Look, when I'm out of here, I'll explain everything. But for now, you didn't hear wrong. I'm Syal Antilles. I hope you guys can forgive me for not telling you earlier."

"That goes same for me," Lujayne said, instantly backing up her wingman. "I'm Lujayne Darklighter."

"Not to worry, you two," VibroSword Thirteen, Tiran Vash said understandingly. "I'm also in the mood for sharing. But a little later. "

"Same here," Nora Dod nodded. "I mean, if we're going to be tackling more mini-Death Stars in the near future, I figured if I can't trust you guys with my back, who else am I going to trust?"

"I guess if everyone's getting their dirty secrets off their chest, we will too," Hellana motioned to herself and Minata.

"The med-bot over there says you'll be here for at least a day. So, lounge tomorrow?" Lujayne asked. "We can all talk this over as a squad."

"Sure," Syal smiled.

"Before you take a rest," Colonel Daine spoke up. "There is a small matter to take care of. Both Admiral Bres-Durron and myself have forwarded to High Command an account of the actions of both Flight Officer Antilles and Corporal Darklighter." She gestured to Syal and Lujayne. "After review, and quite frankly I would have questioned their sanity if they had refused, both of you are receiving special commendations for your actions at Tusken's Eye. Without their involvement, things might have gotten a whole lot worse. The two showed leadership, poise, and a willingness to sacrifice themselves in the spirit of the Galactic Alliance Navy tradition during a time of great peril. So High Command wants to also recognize this with a promotion. We now have to refer to each of them as _Corporal_ Antilles and _Lieutenant_ Darklighter. Congratulations."

There was a round of applause from the other pilots as Lujayne and Syal stared at each other in shock.

"That is all," Colonel Daine said tonelessly. "I've told High Command to give the entire squadron a week's worth of leave time, and they were more than happy to oblige. So as of this moment, all of you are off-duty. Enjoy."

The dark-haired woman calmly left the room. Once the doors closed behind her a full-blown smile appeared on her face and she closed her eyes in a silent prayer of thanks.

**]VI[ ]VI[**

The door to the room hissed open, and Admiral Kadra Bres-Durron looked up with a weary expression on her face. "I heard the news. No casualties for the VibroSwords. Congrats. Maybe they'll break the curse."

Zindra just nodded solemnly. "Are _you_ okay, Kadra?"

"I lost a third of my fleet in that engagement." Kadra shrugged, her expression closed off. She tossed a datapad onto the desk and slumped into her chair. "That's a lot of 'I'm sorry I got your son or daughter killed,' letters."

"You couldn't have known. Even the intel people didn't know."

"Sure, but it doesn't make the seventy-thousand, six-hundred and fifty-two people any less dead," Kadra rubbed her face, and then kept it buried in her hands. "I knew the captains and officer corps of every single ship that was lost. Some I knew since before the Vong War. I thought I saw enough needless death with the war over. All those lives lost, and the politicians are still calling the attack a victory. Doesn't matter that the pirates all fled the scene, that we don't have a single prisoner because the ones left killed themselves or self-destructed their ships, that we have no idea how simple pirates were able to build something of that magnitude without anyone knowing, or how they came up with nearly two fighter-wings with TIE One-Exes and Tee-Sixty-Fives. You got your heroes out of this, Zindra. But in the long run, it doesn't mean anything. Not unless they can keep being heroes."

"They took out a Death Star-like weapon on their second mission," Zindra said. "If their future has more of that in store, if they've only just begun their rise, I'm not sure _I'll_ be able to keep up with them."

Kadra just smiled sarcastically and swallowed painfully.

The doors to the room opened again, and a young officer entered with two figures in tow. "Ma'am, you sent for your children."

"Zeth, Maia," Kadra's expression softened. The four and two year old children both made their way over to their mother as fast as their little legs could move them, hugging her tightly with small hands the moment they made contact with her. "I'm so sorry, you two. I'm so sorry. Kyp was right, I shouldn't have brought the two of you."

Zindra's own expression grew stricken, and she turned away slightly as Kadra continued to apologize to the two children. She had enough experience with Jedi to know that the mass of death the battle had caused, not only the Galactic Alliance, but all the pirates who had fought to their last breath, would have been more than traumatizing for such young souls. The battle was supposed to have been a quick and overwhelming victory, a milk run to bolster some of the greener fighter pilots that had been flying; not a battle for life and death.

"If you want to spend time with them, I can finish up the full report to High Command," Zindra said gently. "Those two need you more than those battle-trained soldiers outside do."

Kadra nodded silently, tear tracks down her cheeks visible over the shoulders of her children. The three were shaking, gripping each other for all they were worth.

"Hey kids," Zindra knelt down next to the family and began gesturing with a single hand. "Not sure if this will help, and I'm no Jedi or anything, but focus on your mommy and that link you have to your dad. Focus on that and only that. Your mom's hurting too, so you can make her better by thinking about how much you love her."

The four-year old acknowledged the order by going completely still, a peaceful expression replacing the frightened visage he had had. The younger brother, still too young to understand the complexities of what Zindra was saying, simply followed his older brother's lead. Kadra's head snapped up, before she too let out a small contented sigh.

"Go on and rest, Kadra. I'll take care of the fleet."

Kadra nodded again, gently picking up her children and retreating to the bedroom of her quarters. Zindra watched them go almost forlornly, a sad smile gracing her face. Shaking herself, she turned back to the report-strewn desk and released a breath.

"Such is a life in a glorious day in the Galactic Alliance Navy."

**]VII[ ]VII[**

Syal watched the field of stars drift by the observation port, once again lost in thought. Her life had changed, and changed for the better, but she still needed time to process what had just occurred. The meeting with the rest of her squadmates, and the revelation that she was not the only child of a 'war hero' had been both shocking, but a great relief. Stories had been shared, smaller secrets admitted, and when the meeting had ended, the entire squadron had become all the stronger for it. But now Syal had to do the hard thing and make 'Syal Antilles' a part of the squadron, a friend of all the others. There would be no more lies or half-truths. She wanted to be accepted for just herself, to have a place Syal Antilles could belong. No longer did she see herself as competing with her father's sizable shadow, but accenting it. She was her father's daughter, and she'd make sure that her actions only further added to the reputation a name like 'Antilles' carried. For once in her life, she was sure that VibroSword squadron was the place to do it, the place she would fit in. And despite the hardships that would undoubtedly arise, she knew that her squadron would have her back, just as she would have theirs.

"Nice view outside, isn't it, Antilles?"

Syal spun around almost on instinct at the voice of the fleet commander. She had been so engrossed in the view, in her thoughts, that she hadn't even heard the woman's approach.

"Admir…al."

Kadra raised a single crimson eyebrow. "No uniform, no rank. Right now, I'm just a mom."

Syal blinked. Apart from the admiral being on the _Dodonna_ and not on her flag, Syal didn't think she'd ever get used to the drastically different outfits the older woman had. The red-haired admiral was now dressed in traditional Kiffu casual-wear adorned with clan-markings. In one of Kadra's arms was a small child, and the admiral was holding the hand of a second child on her opposite side. "Your children, ma'am?"

"Yup," Kadra smiled faintly. "They're a bit too young to be off at that Jedi academy. Unlike their big sister, Ryza. She's already with their father on Ossus, learning all those things a good Jedi needs to learn."

Syal eyed the two young boys for several long moments, smiling softly at the sheer innocence they seemed to exude. "The battlefield is no place to grow up."

"Not like I can hire a babysitter out here. Besides, everyone my husband knows are those reckless adventuring types. Not exactly people I want watching my kids," Kadra said absently, leading the toddler to the viewing window. She knelt in front of the four-year old and made a series of gestures with her free hand. "Look Zeth, look at all the pretty stars."

The four year old turned to the viewport and placed a tiny hand against the transparasteel, silently taking in the sights.

"Zeth's deaf and mute," Kadra continued conversationally. "The hand gestures help, and the Force lets him understand the gist of what we're saying. Probably the only time I'll ever be grateful for it."

"You don't believe in the Force?"

"_Believe _in it?" Kadra glanced at Syal. "Do I believe in some all-powerful energy that guides our actions and exists in everything in this galaxy? Yes. Do I believe_ in_ it to the point where I'll let it guide my life, let it turn my kids or my husband into martyrs for the 'greater good'? No. I only agreed with my husband to train our children in the ways of the Force because they might as well learn how to use their abilities for good. I'm still on the fence about actually letting them become Jedi. You can still be a hero, still make a difference in this galaxy, and not be a part of their order. You of all people should know that."

Syal nodded silently.

"You tell your family about your last mission?"

"I'm not sure how."

"Probably should do it before…well, within another two hours."

"What? Why two hours?"

"The media. You didn't really think you and your squadron could take down a midget-Death Star and _not_ received the obligatory accolades and fame?"

"I didn't take it down for that. I just wanted to save lives."

"Oh good, they'll love lines like that. Remember, you're the one who wanted to give the G.A. Navy a swift kick in the pants. But if you intend to be the face of the Galactic Alliance Navy, a new burst of hope for the men and women who serve alongside you, you're going to have to learn about the political angle really fast."

"Ma'am?"

"Don't worry, your C.O. has that covered this time around." Kadra gave Syal a pitying look. "Start brushing up on your politics soon, though. You won't have much time once word gets out that _the_ Syal Antilles is leading a new generation of heroes against the darkness plaguing the galaxy."

Syal swallowed, eyes widened. "I…I just want to be a regular fighter pilot. Want to protect and serve."

"There's a reason why I had the VibroSwords, FireSpars, and Grays lead the charge," Kadra said, bouncing her youngest in her arms. "Your three squadrons were the only ones that still had the fire, the drive, to get this done. Even if it had turned out to be wild bantha chase, you would have gone chasing that wild bantha with all your will. That's what this navy needs now more than ever. The soldiers and pilots need an example to follow, the civilians looking to us need a hero they can look up to, and the government needs their paragons of all thing good. You may just want to be a regular pilot, but you stopped being one that minute you stood up to me in this longue."

"You sound angry," was all Syal could manage, her nerves firing off and twisting her stomach.

"This galaxy has had enough of heroes," Kadra replied curtly. "Had enough of people sacrificing themselves for the greater good. If the colonies don't want to be victims of pirate raids, they should form their own militias, should learn how to defend themselves, not wait for someone to come along and save them. Heroes inspire, but they also make people lazy. Let's say there's a similar mission to the one you were just on tomorrow, and I ask for volunteers. How many people would first look to your squadron? How many others will sit on the sidelines until they see the VibroSwords, see Syal Antilles, ride off into battle first? If we all did our part, there'd be no need for heroes. If we all adhered to what it meant to be members of the Galactic Alliance, we wouldn't be in the situation we are in now. You're nineteen, a green pilot with only two missions under your belt. By all accounts, you _should_ be just another pilot, one of thousands spread throughout the galaxy dedicated to keeping the peace. But that's impossible in this day and age. Be the hero this galaxy needs, but don't forget about those thousands of other pilots as well. Share that responsibility you'll soon inherit. Don't let those thousands of other pilots become lazy, content with riding on your coattails. You've started something, Corporal Antilles. Whether you have what it takes to see it through remains to be seen. I don't tell you this to overwhelm you, or to swell your ego, but to prepare you. The moment 'Syal Antilles' steps out into the public eye, things will never be the same for you again. Think you're up to it, corporal?"

Syal bowed her head quietly. Had Kadra asked her that question even a few hours earlier, Syal knew that her answer would have been 'no.' But after meeting with her squadron, after learning that she was not alone, that she had thirteen others who would back her up, she had a new outlook on life. Thanks to Lujayne, she was no longer competing with the specter that was her father, but trying to enhance his larger than life biography even further. Wedge Antilles, war hero who had an equally renowned and accomplished daughter. Was she ready to be the face of the Galactic Alliance Navy? Definitely not. But she was going to do her damnedest to ensure that everything her father had fought for wasn't going to fall apart on her watch. Someone had to step up, and if not the VibroSwords, then who?

"Corporal?"

"I'm ready to try, ma'am," Syal said bravely.

"And have you decided what type of hero you'd be?"

"The kind that leads from the back, giving everyone a kick in the pants when they need it."

"Or a split lip," Kadra commented wryly.

"That too," Syal flushed. "Sorry about…"

"No need," Kadra smirked. "I was asking for it."

"So," Syal glanced at a distant comet streaking across the void of space. "What happens now?"

"Now we continue what we started. The pirate base may be gone, but they're still out there in dozens of systems. Thanks to you and your squadron, this fleet is motivated enough to chase those pirates to each of them. Of course, all that will come after the big media blitz occurring on my flag at the moment."

"Is that why you're over here?"

"Mostly, yeah," Kadra said sheepishly. "Told Colonel Daine I needed some time with my family. Left her to answer all the questions. Rank does have its privilege after all."

Syal grimaced, but then a thoughtful expression fluttered across her face. "Ma'am. Would it be possible for me to join in that conference?"

"Oh?"

"What you said, about me being a hero, a leader. I won't be able to do much if people can't connect a face to a name."

"And what about being just another pilot?"

"If the galaxy needed Lysa Dunter, I would gladly continue to be her. But it doesn't. I'm not sure it needs Syal Antilles either, but if the people have someone to look to, then I might as well continue in my father's footsteps."

"Shuttle's prepped in the hangar," Kadra made a dismissive motion. "Good luck, and may the Force be with you."

**]VIII[ ]VIII[**

"Mom! Dad! Look! Syal's on the HoloNet!" Eighteen year-old Myri Antilles called out, her jaw dropping at the sight of her sister standing at the forefront of her squadron. Heavy footfalls followed as both Iella and Wedge hurriedly made their way to the spacious den of their luxurious Coronet estate—an estate donated by the Corellian government as a thank you for all of their hard work and for enhancing the name of Corellians everywhere.

"Syal?" Iella said worriedly. "Is she okay?"

"What's she doing on the HoloNet?" Wedge asked almost at the same time.

"Shhh," Myri chided. She turned up the volume, and the voice of her sister filled the room.

_"You'll have to forgive me if this sounds a little rough. I only really started planning what I would say on the shuttle ride over here. First off, I'd like to thank Colonel Daine and the rest of my squadron. Without them I would not have the strength to stand before you all. Without them, I also probably wouldn't have survived the attack on the Pulsar Station that engaged our battle group. I know Colonel Daine told you of the details, so I won't bore you with those…"_

"Pulsar Station!" Iella's eyebrows shot up, and she instinctively reach out towards the holo of her daughter. She glanced towards her youngest. "What were the details?"

"Shhhhh!" Myri hissed again, batting her hand away. "Mom!"

_"The Galactic Alliance is just what that name should suggest; an alliance between peoples all throughout this galaxy. From Bastion to Tatooine, Bakura to Tion, there are hundreds of races, governments, and cultures banded together for a common purpose. As the Yuuzhan Vong War proved, alone, we are vulnerable, together we can overcome any challenged placed before us. We do this not as individual governments and militaries, but as a unified force. __Together__. _

_The Galactic Alliance Navy has spent the past four years tirelessly campaigning against multiple groups of well-organized pirates. Every man, woman, and gender-neutral being who serves in the Galactic Alliance Navy swore to uphold the Galactic Alliance and all its values, swore to protect the defenseless and make this galaxy a better place. Though it seems as though we have made little headway, there have been victories. The only way the pirates will truly win, will truly be able to bring down everything the Galactic Alliance stands for, is if we stop trying. And that is something VibroSword squadron will never do._

_My father, and all the brave pilots that preceded me have bled, have lost friends and family, have sacrificed much for the government we have today. From the days of the Rebellion and throughout the New Republic, the navies that have defended the innocent and struggled to bring equality to this galaxy, never had it easy. In the Rebellion, they were outnumbered, outgunned, and had only hope to keep them warm on the darkest of days. The New Republic saw a galaxy fragmented and scarred by the constant warring, where trust and loyalty was always in question. They have had their dark times, just as we have, but they emerged from them victorious. __They__ emerged victorious by working alongside one another, by believing the best in people even when the galaxy was at its worse. And now is no different. _

_Emerging from the past, from the shadows of these great people who came before us, the Galactic Alliance Navy will continue to follow those time-honored traditions. Will continue to persevere no matter how futile things may seem. Not just for the sake of our honor and for the safety of all those we're sworn to protect, but because it is the right thing to do. All the frustrations of the past four years, it is time to stop focusing on what was, and instead focus on what can be. What type of future do __we__ want to leave for our children, for __our__ families and friends?_

_Each one of us has within ourselves the ability to step up and make that crucial difference. And it's not just those who serve in the military, but every man, woman and child living in this galaxy. We are all a part of a __galactic__ alliance, a part of this one galaxy, and we all have some responsibility to do our part in protecting it. This place is our home. Let us defend it together. The VibroSwords will be at the frontlines, doing our part. We more than welcome anyone else who wishes to stand with us, to show those who would dare destroy the dreams of our forbearers, to destroy our own dreams, the error of their ways. _

_So join us in making this home ours once more. I am Corporal Syal Antilles, VibroSword Seven, and I'm sure you'll be seeing more of me in the times that come. Thank you, and may the Force be with us all."_

**]Story End[**

**A\N: **Well, only an epilogue left for this interlude story, that'll be up July 10th. Afterwards, it's that painful wait until November for the sequel, hope I live up to expectations! Anyways, hope you enjoyed these brief snapshots of my post-war AU EU NJO (and bingo was his name oh!), and are kind enough to drop a review.

Thanks to DarkSabre for fleshing out the character of Kadra Bres for me (even though I created Kadra? still scratching my head =p), and to the handful of others who have continued to review each chapter.

-An Origami Fish


	9. Chapter 9

**Fate Approaches**

"_We're not the police and we're not medicos. We're journalists. Our first duty is to report the facts, to report the story, not to interfere with it."_

_-Madhi Vaandt_

*******I*******

_"…And with the collapse of the coalition government, the political situation of the once influential Outer Rim power of the Tion Hegemony is now in doubt. Political leaders failed to agree on a new constitution and the right-wing True Victory Party walked out of the negotiations after claiming that the current draft panders to the Royal House of Tion more than is healthy. It seems oddly ironic that the dissolution of the unity government should come on the eve of the six year anniversary of the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War. New elections are scheduled to be held in a fortnight, but it is unclear whether any one political party will gain the majority it needs. Hegemony-watchers are likewise concerned with the Tion Hegemony's security fleet and the military leaders waiting in the wings. It is no secret that the Hegemony military has been one of the victims of recent events, and no one can say for certain what the military will do should anti-military politicians come into power. More on this and how the Tion Hegemony government collapsed, in thirty seconds. You're watching the Perre Needmo Newshour, Madhi Vaandt reporting."_

******I******

"**Cianba here, of your one and only HoloNet station for the unvarnished truth, Freedom's Cry. To all you refugees and scattered populations still looking for a home, stay strong and don't ever give up hope. The galaxy may seem like a dark place at the moment, but you're all still alive, can still make a difference and help better the lives of those around you. Even if the politicians and Jedi are still fouling things up over on Denon, there are still some people who actually have a heart in this galaxy. The Five Worlds system of Corellia recently allowed seven million more refugees to settle on planets in their system. For those still looking for family or loved ones, I have it on good authority that the majority of those settled were from the New Plympto and Bright Jewel systems. There were also two super-transports that hailed from Fondor. Currently scrolling across the screen are the names of the refugees I have confirmed to be on Corellia, so I hope it helps brighten more than a few lives out there, connecting families separated by the war.**

**Also opening their doors is the Bakuran Republic. With their recent acquisition of Ssi-ruuvi territory, they've allowed another eighteen million refugees into their territories. Most are from Coruscant, but there are also Dantooine and Gyndiners there as well. All names revealed in this and previous broadcasts can be checked on the Freedom's Cry's HoloNet page, and more are added every day. Don't worry, people. This galaxy has seen some good and bad times. We're definitely in a rough patch for now, but things will get better..."**

*****I*****

"After several years of concerted effort, the planet of Obroa-skai has finally managed to recover from the devastation it suffered during the Yuuzhan Vong War. Thanks in large part to the efforts of the Hapan Consortium and the Jedi of the Jedi Order, the Obrean University has once again opened its doors to students, and life is gradually returning to what it was before the war. The reversal of the Vongshaping of the Ciutric Hegemony has also been a resounding success, with hegemony members flocking back to Ciutric and its neighboring systems in record numbers. And perhaps even topping that feat is the restoration efforts of Bastion. Now in its fourth year, the human population of Bastion has risen to twenty-million. Overall trade is on the rise throughout Galactic Alliance territory, and food-shortages down thirty percent from last year. Pirate activity has also decreased since the destruction of the pirate base a month ago and, coupled with the vigilant efforts of the Galactic Alliance Navy, this has led to safer travel throughout the main hyperspace corridors. Keep up the good work out there soldiers, we're lucky to have you. I'm Sella Marik of the Galaxy Nine News, more to come after a message from our sponsors."

****I****

"_**New Order Progressive NewsNet is proud to continue our nearly four decades' old tradition of bringing you the news straight from the chambers of the Council of Moffs. Our Editor in Chief, Alendar Jarvis, ensures that only the most relevant and accurate information reaches you. With that said, just yesterday Twi'lek and Gotal extremists destroyed sixty metric tons of food stores intended for the refugees of the Clacis sector. Due to the senseless and short-sighted act by these alien terrorists, nearly a billion people will now be at risk for starvation. It is all the more serious since Bisellia is currently undergoing a harsher than usual winter. Grand Moff Quille had this to say about the matter: 'We will hunt down and exterminate the perpetrators like the animals they are. Their actions threaten the very livelihood of our great Empire, and anyone assisting them will likewise be viewed as traitors. They will not escape the arm of justice for long.'**_

_**Expanding to more regional news, the arrogance of the Chiss Ascendancy once again shines through as they have rebuffed Moff Sarreti's attempts to reclaim the Prefsbelt sector and the lost Velcar sector systems. As reported last, it has now been one year since the Ascendancy unilaterally annexed these pure Imperial territories. The Chiss continue to hold our territories despite our demands that they be returned. According to the Council of Moffs, 'all options are still on the table at the moment, including the use of military force to retake what is rightfully ours.' Only time will tell if these Chiss can actually see reason and do the sensible thing.**_

_**In other parts of the galaxy, the alien-led coalition of the Tion Hegemony has finally succumbed to its internal bickering and short-sightedness. Since the human-led House of Cron was among those that collapsed during the Yuuzhan Vong War, the non-human-favoring political action groups that replaced them have done nothing but degrade the Tion…"**_

***I***

**Jedi Praxeum Celebrates its First Birthday! **By Halden Wes. It was exactly one year ago to this day that Corellia's very own Jedi academy opened its doors and its arms to the galaxy. In honor of the occasion, the recently installed emerald prism at the top of the building was lit up for the first time, a sign that the academy is truly open for business. Though the praxeum itself is still under construction, it is very much operational, with a population of twelve Jedi initiates, eight Knights and three Jedi Masters. The three leading Jedi of the academy, Masters Corran Horn, Matarmenos Krahnn, and Corask Slen'da, were all on hand for the celebration, praising the efforts of Prime Minister Aidel Saxan for bringing Corellia through these difficult times with great success. And a reason to be even prouder of this moment? Eight of the Jedi Initiates, six of the Knights, and all three Jedi Masters currently hail from Corellia herself, showing that Corellia is ready to become a major player in this galaxy. We have our very own Jedi helping to keep the peace; the rest of the galaxy can't say the same. So, when you have the time, feel free to stop on by the praxeum and thank the Jedi there for all their hard work. Profiles of each of the Jedi Masters and the Jedi Knight instructors can be found on the next page…

*******II*******

_"Voter turnout for the election of a new government is much lower than anticipated, as members of the Tion Hegemony express their disgust with the government by staying away from the ballot boxes. The Royal House of Tion has issued a plea to all those eligible to vote to do so, stating that a complete collapse of government benefits no one and hurts those most in need._

_Riots and angry protests can be seen in a majority of the twenty-seven system territory, with many ordinary citizens fed up with the current status quo._

_Since the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War, the Tion Hegemony has suffered a steep rise in slave-trading and piracy, with rates rising as high as twelve-percent of the previous year's total. __Even those on the legal side of the law haven't been entirely blameless. The planet of Brigia, ravaged during the war, is currently undergoing strip-mining by several major industrial companies, and is one of many in the Tion Hegemony suffering such a fate as resources and wealth become more and more scarce. Though the Tion Hegemony is not alone, as most of the galaxy is currently suffering similar downturns in living conditions and security, the political situation has only exacerbated the problem._

_The shattered economy and sluggish recovery of the trade networks have done little to bolster the confidence of the public in the ruling Royal House of Tion and its allies. And for the first time, the military has chimed in on the growing political disaster unfolding out here in the Outer Rim. Sky Marshal Antonin Erzar is on record as saying that the Hegemony fleets are ready to step in should the House of Tion be unable to rein in the unruly population of the Hegemony. Sources close to the election process say that the Royal House of Tion has already informed the Galactic Alliance Senate about the situation and have requested logistical aid..."_

******II******

**"…And over on Denon, the Senate just passed the Derelict Planet Reclamation Act, giving a finder fee to any spacer who locates a planet suitable for living. And though this will probably help in the long run, it still does nothing to alleviate the suffering of the over two trillion refugees who still have nowhere to go, or the several hundred planets already habitable but in need of reconstruction funds tied up by all the red tape. What's worse is that the Senate didn't pass this bill out of whatever goodness is left in their hearts. RePlanetHab, an arm of the multi-conglomerate Corporate Sector Authority, sponsored the passage of the bill, lining the pockets of several senators in the process. It's clear that the politicians back on Denon haven't learned the lessons of the Yuuzhan Vong War. These days they seem more concerned about keeping the wealth and power to themselves than worrying about us little people out here in the galaxy. Any place outside of the Inner Rim might as well forget about help in the near future. The Senate is adamant that any new funds go towards restoring Coruscant and Bastion. Not that they can agree on much else. Even the shadowy High Council, made up of Jedi and ministers, can't seem to decide on anything without being overridden by the quarreling, children-like senators. When will they wake up, look outside a window, and see that the rest of the galaxy is falling apart?"**

*****II*****

"Some good has already come from the recent passage of the Derelict Planet Reclamation Act. Thanks to the bold political maneuvering of Chief of State Cal Omas and his cabinet, five planets suitable for living have been located in Wild Space. Arrangements are already being made to transplant seventeen million refugees to these planets, which philanthropy corporation RePlanetHab has promised to help develop. Additionally, Galactic Alliance Fleet Admiral Cha Niathal has devoted elements of her fleet to safeguard these new planets. These five planets look to be the beginning of a new era for the Galactic Alliance, proof that old wounds are slowly healing.

And speaking of new eras, the fighter squadron of great renown, the VibroSwords, has done it again, taking down yet another hive of scum and villainy. This time their target was renowned pirate bandit Three-Eye and her band of cut-throat accomplices who preyed on the shipping vessels that supplied reconstruction efforts across the galaxy. In an action coordinated with the Reconstruction Authority Space Patrol force, the VibroSwords single-handedly went up against much greater odds. But as their spokesperson, Syal Antilles, daughter of famed war-hero General Wedge Antilles, has said in times past, 'never tell me the odds'…."

****II****

"_**New Order Progressive NewsNet continues our tradition of brining you the news as it happens from the boardroom of the Council of Moffs. Alendar Jarvis, chief editor. The unrest in the Tion Hegemony has driven up the prices of basic technological goods in the Empire. Almost untouched during the Yuuzhan Vong War, the Tion Hegemony has been a large supplier of industrial droid processors, blaster weapons, and ship-board computing systems to the many systems in the Outer Rim and Wild Space. The recent rabblerousing of non-human separatists, however, has led to multiple work-stoppages and a decline in exports across the board. To compensate for the overnight near tripling of prices, Grand Moff Quille has issued temporary subsidies to all loyal companies of the Empire. It is unknown how long this price increase will last so the Council of Moffs and Jedi Representative Turi Altamik are making contingency plans.**_

_**Needless to say, much of the reconstruction of war-ravaged worlds rely on the goods supplied by the Tion Hegemony's industrial sector, and more drastic measures are certain to follow if this situation is not resolved soon. Both the Gold Fortress and the Blood Fin have been dispatched to the Tion Hegemony at the request of Tion Sky Marshall Antonin Erzar to help maintain law and order in some of the more unruly sectors. Moff Ephin Sarreti, of Bastion infamy, also stated that they would be on hand to evacuate any Imperial citizens should the situation continue to deteriorate. "**_

***II***

**Corellia, Aiding Friends in Need. **By Hol't Deb Orah. Some days you just feel so proud to be Corellian. Political troubles in the Outer Rim have left several systems in dire need of life-saving tech and supplies, and the Galactic Alliance government appears to have been caught flatfooted. Never fear, Corellia to the rescue! Recently elected Prime Minister Aidel Saxan has approved a good-will gesture to the planet of Adumar, dedicating a sizable portion of the Corellian Engineering Corporation's manufacturing capabilities to fill the sudden gap. The first few shipments of logic boards and fissile materials just left Coronet and should make it over to our allies on the Outer Rim before their own stockpiles run out. Also, due to Corellia's strength, we were also able to donate several hundred metric tons of food to Adumar, Altyr Five, and Bimmisaari. The best part is that Corellia can afford these good-will gestures and still have plenty of her own supplies to spare. Let the galaxy know today that Corellia's ready to step up and do their part in making it a brighter and happier place.

*******III*******

"_Madhi Vaandt here with the latest from the Tion Hegemony. I'm standing out in front of the parliament building at the moment, and after a week of counting, the largely symbolic vote is in. Unfortunately for the Hegemony, things aren't looking good. If you can believe it, a mere forty-three percent of the Hegemony actually voted; seventeen-percent lower than needed to meet quorum. The demographics break down mostly along political lines. Most of those who voted are loyal to the royal families, while most of those who stayed home are affiliated with the Corporate Sector Authority and True Victory factions. It was said that the royal families wanted to keep Tion Hegemony as it is, investing not in military expenditures, but in infrastructure and local businesses. The True Victory party and the CSA both wanted the opposite, an opening of the Tion Hegemony to outside corporations and a stronger military force. Since the vote did not meet quorum, the political impasse within the parliament remains and…Great Force! Shohta, get the camera on that! Everyone, I…I can't believe what I'm seeing! The forces of Sky Marshal Erzar have just deployed around the parliament building and…the Royal Guard is opening fire on them! I don't understand, Erzar was supposed to be backing the royals. And…ladies and gentlemen I think we're witnessing coup-in-progress! Shohta, over here, we have some cover here!_

_As things are unfolding, it's blatantly obvious that the Royal Guard is outnumbered. Sky Marshal Erzar appears to have the support of the CSA, since Espo forces are working in conjuncture with his own. And…oh no…no, no, no, no. I'm not sure if you caught that, but a parliamentary escape shuttle just tried to take off. It was intercepted by Tion Hegemony's security force, and it is now clear that the Sky Marshal is not the only leader in this coup. Fighters from General Talamina's fighter-wing just blasted that shuttle out of the sky. Shohta and I will try to keep a live feed going, but we're going to move to a more secure location. There's no telling what'll happen next!"_

******III******

"**Boy does Cianba have a scoop for you all today! The leaders of the Tion Hegemony have apparently angered their constituents in a big way. What do you expect when you allow slavers and unscrupulous businesses to have their free reign with your population and the refugees who came to you expecting protection? I have it on good word that many of the refugees within the Tion Hegemony are backing the regime change led by Sky Marshal Antonin Erzar and a cabal of sensible military leaders. Even some in the Hegemony are already calling Antonin a hero for his bravery. For those not in the know, Antonin is a Vong War veteran, survived the disastrous campaign that took the life of Admiral Kre'fey and much of the Tion Hegemony's war fleet. He's always been a big backer of laws that come down hard on ne'er-do-wells, and has a strong following in the Hegemony's armed forces. As we speak, he and his allies are launching an all-out effort to oust the royal houses from power. It's said that even the Imperials are getting in on the action, with four of their Star Destroyers providing holding actions over systems already under the Sky Marshal's control.****It's very possible that in the near future, the ineffectual way the Tion Hegemony has been run these past few years will be little more than a bad memory. Here's to you, Sky Marshal, those at the Freedom's Cry hope you have quick success in revamping that corner of space and cleaning out the filth that had made it unlivable."**

*****III*****

"A delegation from the Tion Hegemony recently expressed its support in the strength and growth of the Galactic Alliance by requesting diplomats from the Jedi Order to help resolve a political deadlock amongst their people. Rapid growth in the Core and Colony Worlds have created demands on the less stable Mid and Outer Rim sectors, resulting in some dissatisfaction among the Tion Hegemony commoners. Most of the dissatisfaction revolves around the re-appropriation of wealth gained by the upswing in manufacturing and distribution industries in tech-heavy areas such as the Tion Hegemony. The increased tariffs and dues are used to fund the thirty five restoration projects currently nearing their end phase, and over fifty others in progress. This is just a reminder that we all have to give a little to support our neighbors all across the galaxy, even if it lightens our pocketbooks just a little bit. The Galactic Alliance is doing its best to make our home as bright a place for all races and peoples, and it needs your cooperation to make that happen. We've managed to make the Core, Colonies, and Inner Rim regions a better place for all, so let's all band together and extend that success to the Expansion Region and beyond. This is Sella Marik of the Galaxy Nine News, wishing everyone a wonderful day."

****III****

"_**As we have done for the past forty years, New Order Progressive NewsNet **__**is honored to be the Empire's choice news network. The situation in the Tion Hegemony remains very fluid at the moment, with military forces loyal to Sky Marshal Antonin Erzar engaging in active combat with forces loyal to the Tion Hegemony's royal houses. It is only the third day combat, and yet we can confirm that several of the minor royal houses are now completely under the control of Erzar and his men. The Royal House of Tion, however, still commands a sizable military presence and has managed to push back the Sky Marshal's initial offensive for the moment. Yet it seems only a matter of time before the royal houses fall, and the Council of Moffs is already making preparations to enter into negotiations with the Sky Marshal and the Tionese generals to ensure that the technological lifeblood of the Empire remains flowing.**_

_**Elements of our fleet have been dispatched to ensure that Imperial holdings and citizens remain unharmed during this moment of turmoil. In the meantime, we have requested an increase in exports from several Core-ward companies. Though the shipping costs promises to be high, it is no worse than if we were to cease receiving any shipments all together. To compensate, the Council of Moffs have passed several austerity measures to compensate for the increasing cost of daily living. In addition to higher taxes and debts being called in, tax evasion and money laundering are now Class One offenses; punishable by death depending on the severity. The Council of Moffs have also granted themselves the power to seize the assets of anyone they deem a traitor to the Empire. These measures ensure the continued wealth and prosperity of the Empire and once again prove that humans can survive no matter how difficult the going gets."**_

***III***

**Corellia's Tion Tribulation. **By Vani Korr. Long time ally of the Five Worlds, the Royal House of Tion, is facing its toughest challenge yet as military hardliners have launched an all-out coup in an attempt to seize power for themselves. Prime Minister Aidel Saxan has already dispatched two of Corellia's own Jedi, Jedi Knight Valin Horn and Jedi Knight Natua Wan, in an attempt to mediate a peaceful solution, but understands that such an outcome may not be likely. Several CorDef troop carriers were sent along with the Jedi to the Tion Hegemony loaded with food and medical aid for the supporters of the royal houses. In the meantime, Corellian businesses, and allies of Corellia, have upped their output in order to provide for the many systems that had relied on Tionese exports. Already Corellia is seeing new waves of refugees fleeing the conflict, the first since the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War, and are opening up camps to help deal with any additional influx this conflict may produce.

It is the hope of this reporter that the military leaders in charge of the coup realize just how badly they are hurting the rest of the galaxy with their nonsensical and feckless grab at power. Even the Mandalorians realize the futility of such a maneuver, as commandos and ships under their Mandalore were seen safeguarding member of the remaining royal houses of the hegemony. All of Corellia's eyes now turn towards the Galaxy Alliance Senate in hopes that the governing body of this galaxy can step up and be the leaders we all need at the moment.

*******IV*******

_"Madhi Vaandt here, reporting with my crew from a secure bunker in royalist-held territory. As you can tell by the gunfire and explosions outside though, 'secure' and 'battle-lines' are very fluid terms. The coup is entering its third week as forces loyal to the royal houses of the hegemony have overcome their initial surprise and have dug in at several systems across Tion-held territory. They've been bolstered in large part due to a sizable Mandalorian force and several battalions of Corellian marines. The longer this goes on, the more it looks as if this will be a protracted battle between military forces loyal to Sky Marshal Erzar and those who still back the current administration. My sources from within the royal estate of the Tion family tell me that word has been sent of the Galactic Alliance pleading for help in ending this coup. And believe me, help is needed. Desperation to end the coup quickly is leading to rushed decisions and many civilian casualties._

_The rebels loyal to Erzar know that if the coup drags out for too long, the likelihood of outside intervention increases dramatically. They've taken the gamble that the Galactic Alliance government will not intervene, and that the allies the royalists can call on won't do anything to be drawn into a civil war so soon after the devastating Yuuzhan Vong War. It's a huge risk since the disruption in exports caused by their movements will no doubt leave more than a few feathers ruffled._

_Meanwhile the royals risk losing their supporters the more lives the conflict consumes. The already frail economy of the Hegemony has essentially collapsed, leaving large numbers of people unemployed and more likely to side with the rebel forces. Unless the coup attempt is ended soon, and the Galactic Alliance intervenes, the royalists are the ones standing on thin ice. Years of dissatisfaction with the royal houses' inability to clamp down on a burgeoning slave trade, as well as corruption caused by inroads being made by the Corporate Sector Authority, have led to the royal houses receiving a twenty-two-percent approval rating in the last polls; with an additional twenty percent refusing to rate the royal houses positively or negatively. Yet, the royal house may be buoyed by the fact that there was at least some semblance of order under their rule. _

_Piecing together reports from the different systems in Hegemony space, seventy-thousand lives have __already __been lost in this civil war, and that's not counting the civilian population, where I have numbers ranging from fifty to eighty thousand. Keep in mind, this is only after three weeks of bloodshed, with most of the casualties coming in the first few days of the coup attempt. Nevertheless..."_

"_Vaandt! We have to go! Imperial artillery has reinforced the Sky Marshal's forces, the royalists are being pushed back!"_

"_Alright folks, you heard my holocam operator. This is Madhi Vaandt, signing off for now!"_

******IV******

**"What started out as a quick and easy coup attempt has quickly devolved into a carbon flush that has the politicians in Denon running about like gizka without heads. The Tion Hegemony is one of the original signatories of the Galactic Alliance, and unlike some of the smaller governments that have already collapsed under the rampant corruption and crime in this galaxy, actually lines Core-ward politician pockets with a fair amount of credits. Not helping the matters any are the fact that several other prominent Galactic Alliance member-states have been providing not-so-subtle support to one side or the other of the coup attempt. Any action taken by the Galactic Alliance council will risk alienating another signatory, but at the same time, if no action is taken, they run the risk of losing the Tion Hegemony as a whole.**

**Even before this civil war, the Outer Rim region of the Hegemony was known by savvy spacers as a 'no-go' area due to the very high likelihood of getting hijacked, kidnapped, and sold into slavery. It wasn't until Jedi Knight Ambassador to the Tion Hegemony, Jedi Knight Sothais Saar, was killed last year while trying to bring down the slave-loving Zygerrians, that the Jedi Order and the Galactic Alliance finally did something about the slave traders. In all those years before, though, my people had free reign over the hapless Tion Hegemony. No matter what is said in the future, there is no doubt that the central Galactic Alliance government shares some blame over the collapse of one of their cornerstones…"**

*****IV*****

"An emergency meeting was called by the High Council this morning as events in the Tion Hegemony have escalated. Mid-Rim and Expansion Region systems are reporting influxes of Hegemony refugees, straining camps already bustling with refugees from the Yuuzhan Vong War. Most of the criticism is directed at the rebel leaders for launching such an ill-timed and detrimental grab for power. At the moment, the Jedi Order, renowned for their non-violent stances and ability to broker peace among even the most mortal of enemies, seem powerless to stop the dispute as the situation continues to degrade. The Senate has likewise called on them to resolve the situation, as the rebellion's effects on the rest of the galaxy are being keenly felt in key systems all the way to the Core. Several reconstruction projects have had to be abandoned, and many Mid-Rim worlds that relied on Tion Hegemony tech, are at risk of collapsing themselves. It is this reporter's hope that the rebel leaders realize the folly of their actions and lay down their arms peacefully. Nothing more is to be gained by starting another war, especially a civil war; and the galaxy stands united in this thought.

Chief of State Cal Omas has already authorized a small fact-finding mission to ascertain the details of the state of affairs within the Tion Hegemony, with more forces promised should the situation call for it. But he is reluctant to intervene in an internal power-struggle of one of the Galactic Alliance's strongest allies. In any event, a decision on the matter will be made shortly, and we'll have more on that as the information comes in."

****IV****

"_**Bringing you the news straight from the Council of Moffs for over four decades, New Order Progressive NewsNet is proud to continue our time-honoured tradition for the Empire. The latest news from the Tion Hegemony is in, and Imperial forces under the command of Moff Evelyn Tanal were reportedly engaged by mercenary forces loyal to the despotic rulers hiding behind the façade of 'royalty.' Imperial Intelligence has recently obtained information that alien-sympathizers within the royal houses of the Tion Hegemony have spent over two-hundred million credits to hire a full force of Mandalorian mercenaries to do their dirty work. The money, of course, came from the royal treasuries, hard earned tax dollars being mismanaged in a horrendous abuse of power.**_

_**The Imperial forces were engaged by the mercenaries when a band of loyalist besieged the Empire's embassy on Tion. Moff Tanal, sent to relieve the garrison there, was then fired upon by Mandalorian and Tion royalist ships working in concert. We are proud to say that our Moff was successful in her defense of Imperial assets, and the Imperial embassy on Tion remains under our control. The Council of Moffs has petitioned the Galactic Alliance Senate to intervene in the matter before other governments become equally embroiled in this affair. The situation in the Hegemony is nearing an impasse, as neither the royalist nor the Sky Marshal's forces have the means to dislodge one and other from their current holdings. Grand Moff Quille has pledged the Empires support for the people of the Tion Hegemony regardless of the outcome, as this event will no doubt alter the balance of power in the Outer Rim for a very long time to come."**_

***IV***

**Corellia's First Casualties. **By Vani Korr. Corellia has suffered her first casualties of what is being called the Tion Disaster, when an Imperial Star Destroyer bombarded the neighborhoods surrounding its embassy in a blatant violation of several galactic laws. Relief workers in the area never had a chance, and at the time of publishing, it is confirmed that two-hundred and thirty-one aid workers were killed in the attack. Prime Minister Aidel Saxan expressed her fury over the incident and called on the Galactic Alliance Senate to issue sanctions on the Imperial Remnant for deliberately firing on a clearly civilian zone. The High Council and leading members of the Senate have yet to reply, but sources say that they are meeting at this very moment to discuss a plan of action. In the meantime, Corellia will honor the sacrifices of those brave men and women by continuing to drop food and medicines to the supporters of the royal houses of Tion. The only way we can ensure that their lives weren't lost in vain is to help the rightful government beat back the traitorous forces of rebel leader Antonin Erzar. For those wishing to contribute to the Tion Disaster relief effort, donations are accepted at all spaceports, medical centers, and Jedi-owned buildings within the Five Planet region. Every little bit helps, so here's the challenge to all true Corellians out there. If you raise the equivalent of five million credits in aid, the _Corellia_ _Times _will match that donation and then some."

*******V*******

_"It's been three months since the coup attempt by former Sky Marshal Antonin Erzar was launched, and the situation within the Hegemony grows dimmer with every passing day. Already on the capital planet of Tion, this reporter has seen long queues for basic food goods and fuel. Entire city-blocks have been leveled by fighting, and there are countless millions of people now displaced but unable to escape to one of the refugee camps in the neighboring systems. With the Empire assisting the rebel forces and Corellia providing military and logistical aid to the royalists, the events only continue to spiral out of control._

_Just last week even the Mandalorians acknowledged that the situation had deteriorated far worse than anything they could have predicted and pulled their forces out of Hegemony space the moment their day-to-day contract was up. The withdrawal of Mandalorian military support has helped to tip the balance of the civil war back in favor of the rebel forces, with several systems falling under their control within days. My crew and I are currently reporting from the Royal House of Tion's palace, a location that is now under direct siege from rebel forces._

_As I had predicted at the start of the war, a prolonged conflict would only benefit the rebel side of things. With combatant casualties passing a hundred thousand just yesterday, and non-combatant casualties nearing the same number, a majority of the populace is now rallying around Antonin Erzar with the hopes of ending the civil war as quick as possible. Even the Tionese people realize that any further warring will only leave them with ruins in the end, and are increasingly calling on the members of the different royal houses to abdicate for the good of the Hegemony._

_The observer force from the Galactic Alliance, in the meantime, appears to be doing little to stem the violence. Instead, they've become the targets of both sides of the conflict, each venting their frustrations with the Galactic Alliance Senate for being tied up in bureaucracy while hundreds die every day. The High Council remains deadlocked on a course of action, with half in favor of intervening, and the other half opposing the use of Galactic Alliance and Jedi resources for such a direct interference in the affairs of a foreign government._

_In tomorrow's broadcast I've been granted an audience with Crown Prince Corzal Tion, where we will learn about where the royal houses stand in this war. Until then, this is Madhi Vaandt, signing off."_

******V******

**"The events in the Tion Hegemony have gone from bad to worse, people. With the pull out of the Mandos, a collapse of the status quo now appears inevitable. Several smaller governments have begun to acknowledge the forces of former Sky Marshal Antonin Erzar as the legitimate government and are only throwing oil onto fire by sending arms and other supplies to his side. On the opposite end, the royal houses of the Hegemony are becoming increasingly desperate as their forces lose control of more and more systems. And trapped in between all the fighting are the every-day people of the Tion Hegemony and the countless millions of displaced peoples this fighting has created.**

**In all the fighting it seems so easy to forget about the every-day people who are suffering the most. It is why Cianba is now on Tion, to give you all a firsthand account of things here. With the royal treasuries closed off, no one can make a living. Shops are closed, so there is nothing to buy for those with credits in any case. Food aid is being hoarded or selectively given depending on one's perceived allegiances, arrests and raids are terrorizing households, and atrocities are being committed by the armed forces on both sides of the conflict. Sewer systems were damaged by the constant conflict, and power stations were among the first to be targeted so many of the neighborhoods are relying on candle-light alone. Most hard hit are the children of the Tion Hegemony, who were too young to remember the Vong War, but are now getting their taste of war anyways. Something has to be done, people, to end this fighting. Go to your senators and have them force an end to this ridiculousness.**

**Cianba is already hard at work compiling names so that those in the Hegemony can once again locate family members they may have been separated from during the chaos. For those looking for a way out, don't use the Perlemian Trade Route for your exit. There is still constant fighting over control of the vital hyperspace route, and you're liable to be caught in the cross-fire. Instead, use the Overic Griplink hyperspace lane, as it is now being policed by elements of the Galactic Alliance Outer Rim Security Fleet and is probably your best bet if you want to avoid any pirate entanglements. Also, Dac and Pakuuni have set up new refugee camps, so they'll be equipped to handle your temporary shelter and food needs…"**

*****V*****

"The events in the Tion Hegemony have just taken their first Galactic Alliance casualty. Flight Officer Indare Haz, of the renowned _FireSpar_ squadron and a part of the Galactic Alliance observer force, was killed this morning when she sacrificed herself to allow two refugee ships to flee the continuing aggression. Flight Officer Haz and her wingman were patrolling the Tion Trade Route when they came across refugee ships under fire from pirate groups taking advantage of the chaos. Though greatly outnumbered, Flight Officer Haz activated her hyperdrive and sent her fighter into the bridge of the pirate flagship, destroying both vessels and allowing her wingman and the others to escape. Three-hundred and twenty-four souls were saved by her daring and selfless maneuver.

Flight Officer Haz's sacrifice comes on the eve of another High Council vote, the fifth time the High Council has voted on whether or not to intervene in the civil war occurring within the Tion Hegemony. It is a highly controversial and thorny issue, with aspects of member-state rights and the overall power of the Galactic Alliance coming into play. Does the Galactic Alliance have a right to pick sides in a civil war? Where do the identities and authorities of the member-states end, and the overall authority of the Galactic Alliance begins? If the Hegemony does fall, what occurs next? Can the Galactic Alliance afford to let one of its cornerstones destabilize to such an extent? These are questions that have been repeatedly asked by both Senate and High Council members over the last two months. Even the Jedi are conflicted over the matter, with Jedi Masters Octa Ramis, Kenth Hamner, Cilghal, and Jedi Knight Jacen Solo voting against the use of Jedi to interfere militarily in a political matter. Jedi Master Kyle Katarn, Tresina Lobi, and Kirana Ti, are in favor of using Jedi to end the conflict, however, stating that more lives will be saved and stability restored than if events played out naturally.

The death of Flight Officer Haz is sure to factor in to the discussions, enhancing the fact that the Tion Hegemony is fast becoming a lawless region the galaxy can ill-afford to have. The possibility that the civil war will drag on has also become an issue, with the galaxy needing the Hegemony stable to speed its recovery from the Yuuzhan Vong War. Galaxy Nine News will have the results of this afternoon's vote, as well as carry the debate live on our sister-channel the Galactic Star."

****V****

_**"You're watching New Order Progressive NewsNet, the number one news network, serving the Empire for over four decades. As per the request of the Galactic Alliance Senate, Imperial forces have withdrawn all military assets from Tion Hegemony space. Similar withdrawals are also underway for other governments caught up within the conflict as the Galactic Alliance attempts to gain a handle of the situation. In exchange, the Galactic Alliance observer force was tripled, and is now taking on peace-keeping duties as negotiators attempt to hammer out a cease-fire between the two sides. Nonetheless, all Imperial citizens have been evacuated from the Tion Hegemony and Imperial citizens are warned not to travel along the Outer Perlemian Trade Route for the time being.**_

_**The Council of Moffs have set up tentative contracts with businesses in the Ciutric Hegemony to fill the void created by the lack of Tionese exports. Further negotiations are underway with Ciutric Hegemony leaders in an attempt to convince the war-ravaged consortium of planets to accept Imperial stewardship in exchange for protection and security. Similar to the deals Jedi Knight Turi Altamik helped make with the residents of the D'Astan, Fath, Trailing-ward Clacis, and Albarrio sectors, the Council of Moffs wishes for the Ciutric Hegemony to give a portion of their exports, tariff free, in exchange for the peace and security being a part of the Empire provides.**_

_**Unlike the mongrel-filled governments of places like the Tion Hegemony, we as an Empire can be proud of our pure culture and secure in the knowledge that what is happening in the Tion Hegemony can never happen here at home. Other systems in the Mid and Outer Rims, who have been affected by the events within the Tion Hegemony, see this and have begun to reach out to the Council of Moffs with hopes of once again sharing in the glory of the Empire. Within the past two years alone, the Empire has warmly welcomed five sectors and a myriad of systems stretching all the way into the Mid Rim and Hydian Way.**_

_**One thing is for certain, however, and that is that the balance of power in the galaxy will be forever changed by the events occurring in the once insignificant Outer Rim."**_

***V***

**The End of an Era**. By Halden Wes. Following the Galactic Alliance's request to withdraw all non-Tion military vessels from Tionese space, the last of Corellia's armed personnel have left the Outer Rim territory at precisely midnight, Coronet time. But Corellia has far from washed its hands of the matter, however, as we have nearly three thousand aid workers still entrenched with the general populace while the royalists and rebels battle for control of key planets. Among those still in Tionese space for the purpose of keeping order is Corellian Jedi Knight Natua Wan and her Selonian apprentice, and Jedi Ambassador to the Corporate Authority Sector, Jedi Knight Bazel Warv and his Rodian apprentice, Twool.

Given that it has taken the Galactic Alliance over three months to even act on the issue, Corellia High Command expressed its doubt that the token force sent in to replace the CorDef forces can maintain order. The CorDef ships that have left Tionese space are still a single hyperspace jump away should they be needed, as Corellia will never abandon her allies or those in need. The Corellian Jedi Praxeum has also pledged its support to the civilians trapped in the fighting, with Jedi Master Matarmenos Krahnn stating that 'a Jedi's solemn duty has always been to protect those unable to protect themselves, to bring peace and tranquility to places of violence and chaos. The Corellian Praxeum will continue to assist the Corellian aid workers in any way we can until the Tionese authorities are in a position to better care for their people.'

Already the Jedi of the Corellian Praxeum are hard at work overseeing the collation and distribution of the many metric tons of aid you noble Corellians have scrounged up for the Tionese people and our allies scattered throughout the galaxy. As bad as things have become in the Outer Rim, there is no doubting that this is fast becoming a defining moment for Corellia. Who are we as a people? The events within the past few months are your answer.

Corellia, from this point onwards, will become a guiding force in this galaxy, gladly accepting the fate that was assigned to us. We help to fund eight reconstruction projects on planets not within our sphere of influence, provide some form of aid to ten other systems, and help fledging and weaker governments maintain their stability in another twelve. With the help of our Corellian Jedi, we have only just begun to assume the role destiny had planned for us, and the galaxy can only benefit from it as we do.

*******VI*******

"_Despite hopes that the peace-keeping force can end the rampant violence spread throughout the Tion Hegemony, just the opposite appears to have occurred. With both sides fearing a settlement will be forced, each has launched all-out attacks on each other's positions. In a worrying development, former Sky Marshal Antonin Erzar claims that he no longer has control over several brigades supposedly fighting for his cause. Likewise, Crown Prince Corzal Tion, has recently implied that not all royalist fighters have the backing of the royal houses. For a conflict dragging on to its fifth month, there still appears to be no end in sight. As for the Galactic Alliance forces? Already, this reporter has seen Galactic Alliance peacekeepers fired on both in space and on the ground._

_Head of the peacekeeping forces, Admiral Kadra Bres-Durron is reported to have sent a request for reinforcements as the civil war continues unabated. Though the numbers will not be confirmed by the fleet's media representative, it is thought that the peacekeeping forces consists of only sixteen capital ships and four wings of fighters. In comparison, these sixteen capital ships must safeguard twenty-seven systems and prevent the myriad of ideologically different factions from fighting amongst each other. And this is on top of the privateers, slavers, and other bands of criminals who have taken advantage of the collapsed government and are preying on the civilians. The decision to send the peacekeeping force was in itself a political compromise made by Chief of State, Cal Omas. By sending a small force, he was attempting to appease those in the senate who argue against Galactic Alliance intervention; and the Tionese royalists and their supporters who were crucial voices during the formation of the Galactic Alliance._

_The six Jedi currently working in the Tion Hegemony have their hands full with daily death counts ranging from the low hundreds to several thousand. In addition, over twelve billion people have been displaced by the fighting._

_As great as the efforts of the Jedi are, they're still only six people. Their actions are akin to trying to plug a leaking dam with one's fingers. The fact that the Jedi have also stayed neutral in the matter isn't helping anything either. I know they're not supposed to take sides politically, but assisting the countless displaced peoples is doing nothing to end the cause of the problem._

_Whatever the reason, it is becoming increasingly apparent that much more help will have to be sent or the killing will continue. And if it is as the leaders of either side say, that violent splinter groups are forming, then it is even more imperative that the intervention come much sooner than later. This reporter is now pleading with the Galactic Alliance Senate to do something, to space politics and end the fighting. I've covered several planets ravaged during the Yuuzhan Vong War, and Tion is fast resembling them._

_Just yesterday two members of my crew, Alda'ri Sene and Mial Kalbe, were killed by errant mortar fire. We weren't the only ones. I've heard that the crew of the Freedom's Cry was also hit when Tionese fighters fire-bombed a refugee camp. This close to the front, it feels more and more like the lines are being blurred with every passing day._

******VI******

**'Error. No signal detected. Either you currently do not have this HoloNet subscription or the host-site is down. Please contact your service provider if the problem persists.'**

*****VI*****

"As the events in the Tion Hegemony near the end of its fifth month, the High Council has overcome their impasse and decided to intervene in the matter. The swing vote on the council was Jedi Master Kenth Hamner, who said in his explanation that the Jedi could no longer afford to be idle in a conflict with an end nowhere in sight. 'The quicker the Jedi and Galactic Alliance bring stability to the Tion Hegemony, the quicker we can go back to life as usual.' He cites the loss of Flight Officer Indare Hass and the other members of the Galactic Alliance peacekeeping group as further grounds for intervention.

Jedi Master Hamner joins fellow Jedi Kyle Katarn, Tresina Lobi, and Kirana Ti, as well as Supreme Commander Sien Sovv and Director of Fleet Intelligence Ayddar Nylykerka in favor of the Galactic Alliance using any means necessary to end the rebellion in the Tion Hegemony. The decision has led to the mobilization of the Third Fleet, with all remaining shore-leave canceled and supply ships seen refueling and rearming several advanced _Galactic_-class battle carriers.

In addition to the mobilization of the Third Fleet, a special faction of the Jedi Order known as the Death Knights, Jedi commandos, is said to be preparing to journey to Tion and will personally lead combat operations. The decision has been met with both praise and criticism from all corners of the galaxy.

Chief of State Cal Omas, who was against the deployment of Galactic Alliance assets, issued a statement: 'I understand that the decision to send in our forces is not wholly popular. But the alternative, to sit back and let the Tionese people kill each other, is just as distasteful. Though I am against the deployment, I can see its necessity. The Tion Hegemony has been a cornerstone of the Galactic Alliance and stability needs to be achieved as soon as possible. The Galactic Alliance Senate is in a situation where there are no right decisions, at least not a definitive one. Shall we value the sovereignty of our member-states, even when hundreds of lives are being lost on a daily basis? Or shall we close our eyes and ears and try to pretend that all those lives being lost don't matter because of a matter of principle? If you are capable of thinking of a better solution, I am all ears. But in the little over two months since they were deployed, fifty-seven lives from the Galactic Alliance peacekeeping force have been lost. Enough is enough, and since Sky Marshal Antonin Erzar has admittedly lost control over portions of his forces, it is time for the rebellion to end. As of this afternoon, the High Council, with the approval of the Senate, has authorized military deployment with the purposes of aiding the royal houses of the Tion Hegemony and bringing peace and order to the Outer Rim once more.'

Senators from several conglomerate governments with collation governments similar to that of the Tion Hegemony, are already drafting bills to prevent future intervention. Meanwhile, the Tionese senator Thuv Shinev has thanked the Senate for approving the intervention, promising that many lives will be spared due to their bold move..."

****VI****

_**"New Order Progressive NewsNet is proud to bring you the latest information straight from the chamber of the Council of Moffs. The Empire has officially ended its involvement with the Tion Hegemony affair, refocusing her attentions on matters closer to home.**_

_**Tensions remain high as Chiss delegates continue to court systems within the Velcar, Perrinn, and Presfbelt sectors. The blue-skinned near-humans claim that they simply want to supply humanitarian aid to those in need, but their barely veiled attempts at territorial grabs are not fooling anyone. Moff Ephin Sarreti, the lead Moff in charge of Imperial-Chiss relations, has issued stern warnings to the Chiss Ascendancy, stating that war will become inevitable if they do not cease their actions. The Chiss Ascendancy responded by saying they would not allow the millions of non-human refugees existing in those sectors to starve when the Ascendancy is fully capable of caring for them. Only time will tell if the Chiss are so unintelligent as to deliberately provoke a fight with the Empire."**_

***VII***

**The Day of Rhysode. **By Hol't Deb Orah. It was eight years ago to the day that the great Jedi Knight Ganner Rhysode stood guard over the now named Rhysode Memorial Spaceport on Palanhi and declared that none of the hundreds of Yuuzhan Vong warriors arrayed against him would pass the line he made in the ground. Nearly ten meters high, a golden statue in his image, full of defiance and passion, now stands guard over that line; eternally daring any foe to challenge him. The diamond-studded dedication at the base of the statue proclaims his immortal words for future generations to see: None Shall Pass!

Sadly, Ganner Rhysode would die in the final battle of the war, protecting his fellow Jedi as they neutralized the Yuuzhan Vong World Brain planted on Coruscant, but in doing so, he played a crucial role in ending the war.

His memory lives on in the official holiday created in his honor. Started on Palanhi, Corulag, and among some members of the Galactic Alliance military, the Day of Rhysode is now officially recognized in nearly fifty star systems. The holiday consists of a pilgrimage following the 'Way of Rhysode,' traversing from the line he created on Palanhi to the line carved into the Senate atrium floor on Coruscant.

Far from it being a solemn occasion, those who visit the lines are said to recall the happier moments they have had with loved-ones lost. Laughing and smiling at the better days, and looking forward to a brighter future. The fact that these pilgrims are doing so with countless others who have experienced the same tragedy has only created an unbreakable bond among them, healing their sorrows through the madness of traveling from one line to the next. So even in death, Jedi Knight Ganner Rhysode still continues to work his particular brand of healing magic on this galaxy.

Fresh out of the conflict in the Tion Hegemony, Jedi Knight Natua Wan once again leads the local Corellian delegation in the annual pilgrimage to this fallen hero. As has been the tradition of Corellia since the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War, the Corellian government fully supports the Day of Rhysode and has declared it a national holiday; a day not just to remember Ganner Rhysode, but all the brave Corellians who died during the war as well.

******VIII******

_"Madhi Vaandt of the Perre Needmo Newshour reporting live from Tion itself. If it weren't for the fact that my holocam operator has it on record, I wouldn't even believe what we have just witnessed. The Galactic Alliance reinforcements for the royal houses of the Tion Hegemony have arrived, and have already made an impact on the war in their second day. Just this morning, the Jedi Knights from Yavin Four's Jedi Praxeum defeated one of the elite rebel brigades without a single loss of life on either side._

_As you'll be able to see in the recordings we're showing you, all they did was hold out their hands towards the well-fortified rebel fortress. A short time later, nearly two-hundred heavily-armed rebels all cried out in terror and threw their guns to the ground, surrendering without any resistance. Rebel Tionese starfighters called in to support the ground forces were then forced down by the sheer number of Galactic Alliance fighters swarming Tionese airspace. And this is not an isolated instance or stroke of luck. The Galactic Alliance forces are coming in hard, with a no-nonsense attitude. They've made it clear to the rebels that this week will be their first and only chance to surrender without any repercussions or loss of life. After the week is up, lethal force will be authorized and it will be up to the individual unit commanders to use it or not._

_We're currently in the troop transport being used by the Jedi Knights of the Yavin Four Praxeum en route to another hotspot on Tion. According to the latest numbers, it is estimated that a thousand rebel fighters are hiding out in the Rothcar Mountains north of the southern hemisphere's capital city of Ulla. With me now are Jedi Apprentice Maika and Jedi Apprentice Toile Senn, members of the Death Knight Jedi faction._

_Jedi, can you elaborate on what you and your fellow Death Knights did this morning? How were you able to single-handedly defeat that rebel force? I mean, the only thing the Galactic Alliance reinforcements and other Jedi with you had to do was process those who surrendered."_

"_Fear, hatred, even zealotry, all have their strengths and weaknesses. What we just did was magnify the worse-case scenarios, make the soldiers doubt themselves and the cause they were fighting for. On the journey to the Tion Hegemony, our masters had us look at images from the refugee camps and hospitals, of all the suffering this fighting has caused. We replayed those images in the heads of the rebel soldiers, added to their own experiences and hardships until it became too much. The other Jedi helped to boost our strength through the battle meld, and we were able to broadcast our thoughts and emotions to those hundreds of soldiers all at once. "_

"_That doesn't exactly sound like a Jedi ability, although I will admit that I know little about your order."_

"_[When the alternative is those hundreds dead, losses on our side too, I'd say things worked out pretty well, don't you?]"_

"_You didn't answer the question."_

"_[Was there one? The Jedi of the current order all specialize in different aspects. The Death Knights are good for, shall we say, crowd control. With luck, the rest of this operation will go like it had this morning. Once the rebel leadership surrenders, then we can all focus on rebuilding the Tion Hegemony together.]"_

"_And what would you have to say to those who see this as a blatant abuse of the Galactic Alliance and Jedi Order's authority? Why have you chosen to side with the royal houses when current public opinion among the Tionese support the rebellion?"_

"_Saving your harder questions for last?"_

"_I just want our viewers to understand the mindset of the Jedi being thrown into this mess. Do you agree with the decision to intervene?"_

"_In the long run, it doesn't really matter, does it? We're just the boots on the ground, obeying higher powers."_

"_[Maika's right. We're here now because the politicians told us to be here. Our own masters objected to the intervention, but were overruled by the rest of the High Council and the Senate. The only thing we can do now is follow orders and make sure this debacle is ended as quickly as possible.]"_

"_So the two of you are really don't support either side of the war?"_

"_[We're Jedi, we're not supposed to be partial to anyone except whatever cause will save lives the fastest __and keep order__ longest. I think the politicians back on Denon would rather embrace a known government, a known system that's been working for the past half-century or so, than an unknown cabal of coup leaders. Especially in this time of instability.]"_

"_Given that the system led to the civil war in the first place, what makes it so certain you won't have to intervene again?"_

"_Nothing, to be honest. But again, starting a completely new government, under new leadership, and trying to bury any grudges, will take a whole lot longer than continuing on with the systems before. Maybe, if the galaxy was a bit more stable, the Galactic Alliance Senate might have had second thoughts about siding with one group or another. They might have even put more effort into a diplomatic solution. But this civil war is having far reaching repercussions throughout this galaxy at a time when everything's being held together by strands of twine. Bluntly, I don't think the Galactic Alliance Senate really has a choice in the matter, despite what detractors might say. "_

"_[At the same time, this is a war unlike that of the Vong War. There are no 'good guys' or 'bad guys' this time around. We can't walk down a street and easily pick out the rebel or the royalist like you would have a Vong. The challenge is not ending this civil war, but keeping it from occurring again by creating a safe forum where all Tionese can voice their opinion and hash out a new agreement. We as Jedi will only be successful here if we __can__ keep another civil war from breaking out in the near future.]"_

"_Thank you for your time, Jedis Senn and Maika. I'll leave you to your meditations now."_

"_No problem."_

"_[Happy to help.]"_

"_You heard it straight from two Jedi intervening in the Tionese Civil War. With any luck, this civil war has just gotten one giant step closer to being over. This is Madhi Vaandt, until next time."_

*****VIII*****

"Combat operations in the Tion Hegemony are coming to an end after only two weeks of intervention. Using overwhelming force and teams of elite Jedi, the Galactic Alliance was able to successfully subdue the rebels in a majority of Tionese space with minimal loss of life in record time. Due to the swift and efficient action of the responding forces, civilian casualties were non-existent and rebel forces and leaders surrendered en masse without any difficulties. There were twenty-two reported deaths on the Galactic Alliance side, and fifty rebels were said to have lost their lives.

Media representative for the Jedi Order strikeforce, Jedi Knight Sanola Ti, has said that after combat operations are over, several teams of Jedi will stay behind to help rebuild the Tion Hegemony. The Galactic Alliance Senate has likewise issued a statement saying that the royal houses of the Tion Hegemony can count on senatorial support to fast track any necessary funds to help make the Hegemony a functioning part of the galactic economy once more. The quick resolution and subsequent support is being met with wide-spread relief by the various systems that had come to rely on Tionese material and support.

And with the end of combat operations, the galaxy can once again focus on rebuilding our worn-torn homes and planets. Galaxy Nine wishes all of those listening, and your families, the very best as we emerge together into a new era of growth and hope.

****VIII****

**"Cianba's here, and this is the Freedom's Cry. Thank you for all the kind words of concern and support. Unfortunately, most of my team was killed and Cianba herself was badly injured. We want to thank Jedi Knight Doran Sarkin-Tainer and his apprentice Kyrelle Frieneil for covering our rears as the rest of us were evacuated. We have since returned to our home-base a little more battered than we have left it. But even if Cianba's back home at the moment, it doesn't mean I don't have my ear out for the news.**

**The Galactic Alliance intervention no doubt saved many lives, but it's had many of its member governments shaking and a bit paranoid. In a span of two weeks, a single group of Jedi near-singlehandedly ended an almost six-month old civil war with hundreds of thousands of combatants on both sides. If the Jedi and Galactic Alliance have this ability, what will happen if other governments start doing something the High Council or Jedi disapprove of? If the Jedi and High Council really wanted to, there's no stopping their use of tactics reminiscent of the old Empire.**

**It's for that reason that many senators from smaller governments, such as Adumar, Bothawui, and the Imperial Remnant, are sponsoring a very popular bill called the Regional Powers Act; forbidding the Galactic Alliance from using its fleets to solve internal matters of its members states regardless of how bad things become. It also sets limitations on the types of occasions Jedi can be used, barring any all-out combat or suppression that was seen during the intervention in the Tion Civil War. The bill is widely expected to pass, and will deliver yet another painful blow to the Omas administration; which has struggled as of late to build any momentum in rebuilding this galaxy. His decision to approve the intervention in the Tion Hegemony saved one ally, but may have cost him more than he expected. With a government already struggling for legitimacy, Chief of State Cal Omas can ill-afford any more missteps.**

**And now we turn to the segment the Freedom's Cry is known for, the list of refugees and the locations some of them might be found. You've been listening to the Freedom's Cry, and we once again thank you for all your support.**

***VIII***

_"__**New Order Progressive NewsNet is once again proud to deliver you the news straight from the chambers of the Council of Moffs. Weeks of pressure from the myriad of governments that make up the Galactic Alliance have finally led to the resignation of the Supreme Commander of the Allied Fleets—the Sullustan, Sien Sovv—and the Director of Galactic Alliance Fleet Intelligence—Tammarian, Ayddar Nylykerka. It is rumored that the deciding vote in the matter of the Tion Hegemony, Jedi Master Kenth Hamner, may step down as well. Though the intervention arguably saved many lives, many governments are now seeing it as a blatant misuse of the powers given to the High Council and, even after the passage of the Regional Powers Act, are pressing for clearer separation between the Galactic Alliance and their own systems.**_

_**Though the Tion Hegemony affair was undoubtedly the catalyst that brought this issue to a head, dissatisfaction with the Senate and High Council has long been very high. In an attempt to restore damaged planets, and make others habitable, the excess taxation, tariffs, and austerity measures invoked by the central government has kept many systems in recession and has proven to be very unpopular.**_

_**We are very fortunate that two of our own are stepping forward to replace the vacancies created by the non-human officers. Our own Grand Admiral, Gilad Pellaeon, has graciously accepted the post of Supreme Commander of the Allied Fleets, leaving the Imperial Fleets to newly promoted Grand Admiral Tanda Pryl. Hailing from a system still loyal to the Empire, the new Director of Intelligence is Belindi Kalenda, a graduate of the Imperial Military Academy and the only intelligence operative to successfully exfiltrate from the Corellian system during the First Corellian Insurrection. Both are to start their posts at the beginning of next week, so we at New Order Progressive NewsNet wish them the best…"**_

***IX***

"Listening to the old HoloNet reports again?"

"You know me, ever the scientist. We may have left that galaxy behind, but it doesn't mean I'm not curious about what's happening over there."

"And here I was, about to comment on the nice weather outside."

"We're on a sentient, Force-capable planet, the weather's always nice. Too much sun is bad for your skin anyways, even for Jedi. Besides, these past few months of reports have been more than illuminating. I've learned a lot about the state of the galaxy. "

"Good thing the convoys record those copies for you wherever they go."

"No kidding. It really is amazing to see and hear about the same events from all these different viewpoints. It's like each of them are painting a piece of a picture, and it's not until they all have their say that I can see it as a whole image."

"Anything on those recordings that might be a problem?"

"Nothing we can do about them out here. Besides, as strong as you and your wife are, as powerful as Sekot is, I doubt even you can reach across the void between galaxies and right all the wrongs. Things are just taking their natural course."

"And…any news about…"

"Only a few tidbits about Jacen. He's still on the High Council, but they're all having a rough time."

"…"

"You okay?"

"Like you said, nothing we can do about it from here."

"But?"

"Still have a bit of that 'hero complex' I guess. Jace's always been better at the political stuff anyways. If he can't solve the problems, it's even less likely that I can."

"You haven't seen or even talked with the rest of your family since coming here. It's been six years, you know."

"I know…it's just…Is it wrong to want that peace I've had for six years continue to last? I'm happy here, have a beautiful wife and wonderful daughter. Jaya, Jace, they've always been independent of me, never really needing me, especially now that they've got lives and jobs of their own. And mom and dad? They don't know the first thing about taking a break from it all. Everywhere they go its politics and blaster fights. But here on Zonama, there's none of that. Besides…."

"Go on."

"Besides, I've felt it in the Force."

"Felt 'it'?"

"Fate, approaching. Someday soon, I think, we'll have to go back. Unbury all the skeletons we left in that galaxy, face everything we tried to get away from. Call me crazy or pathetic, but until that time comes, I want to go on pretending that the life here is the only thing we should be worried about. Because once we go back, I highly doubt we'll be returning to the peace of Zonama Sekot anytime soon."

"Fate approaching, huh? You know as a scientist I never really put too much stock into fate. The idea that we're all preprogrammed puppets with an illusion of choice just seems so nihilistic, and makes life rather boring. I guess that's where I'm lucky to be weaker in the Force than most. To me, the future is unseen. My fate, if you want to call it that, is undetermined. I'm not blindly walking into it, I have a reasonable idea of where I'll end up, but I'm not fearing it either because _I_ have control of where I'm going. What you feel might come to pass, it might not. The only thing we can do is wait. Wait and hope that when the future finally arrives we're as ready for it as we possibly can be."

"I guess you're right."

"That was a big yawn. Rough day with the Ruling Council?"

"Very. Shimrraists have been stirring up trouble and the council members might have picked up some of the less desirable traits from our galaxy's senators."

"That's why I just sit in my yorik coral tower and dream up ways to make life better. I let you hearty Jedi do the heavy lifting for me."

"Smart."

"I'd like to think so. See you tomorrow, Solo."

"Tomorrow, Quee."

***Epilogue End***

**A\N:** Well, that's it for the interlude, and so ends the second piece in the Star Wars: An Origami Fish's universe. As you noted, I once again decided to play around with the format. You may or may not have enjoyed this chapter as much as the others, but that was to be expected. After Jedi and pilots, I wanted to give you all the same look at the galaxy as its everyday people would be viewing it. It gave me a chance to set the stage for what's to come in the sequel and bring back all the characters introduced in this story in one form or another.

Any resemblance of the story-line to current day events is purely unintentional, though events certainly influenced my writing style at the time of this chapter's creation. The collapse of the Tion Hegemony was actually an unused story-plot I had when I was writing aDA, back in 2011, that was recycled to demonstrate how chaotic the post-Yuuzhan Vong War galaxy had become. So for those leaving a review, please keep any mention of politics and your opinions of said present-day events out of your reviews. Thanks!

One last note. For those with the patience to go through a Solo/Skywalker-less fish-sized story of mostly OC proportions, you get a little treat. I'll be posting a sneak-peak of select scenes from chapters in A Fate Unseen this Saturday, to give you all a bit of a hint about what to look forward to. Afterwards is that dreadful wait until November. Barring unforeseen circumstances, the 14th of November, 2013, will be the date the first chapter will be posted.

I'm currently working on chapter 15 of the story, so I hope to have a fairly large buffer by the time November comes along. This means either weekly updates or an update biweekly until at least the New Year.


	10. Chapter 10

**A Fate Unseen** (A sneak preview)

_The stronger you become in the Force, the more you can do, the more that's expected of you, and the less your life belongs to you. A Jedi trusts the Force and at first seeks other ways to resolve problems…But there are times when a Jedi must fight, and I fear those times will come all too often for us._

_-Luke Skywalker_

**SP(I)SP**

_**Zonama Sekot**_

Night had fallen over Zonama Sekot, the twin suns finally dipping below the horizon as they had done every night for the past seven years. In the great tampasi of the living planet, bioluminescent plants, insects, and animals, all came to life lighting up the world in soft hues of blue, green, and pink. Despite the hour, the tampasi was bustling with much life, a new chorus of many animals and insects taking the place of those turning in for the night. The creatures the Yuuzhan Vong imported had settled peaceably among the native lifeforms and were thriving, adding to the diversity of an already strange and unique world.

In the settlements, Yuuzhan Vong glow-bugs illuminated lamps and buildings. Unlike most populated worlds, there was no harsh artificial lighting bleeding up into the sky, no giant holo-signs advertising one product or another, or lines of noisy speeders still present in the sky. As night fell, the streets slowly emptied, workers returning home after a hard day's labor.

And as the daylight faded away, those on the planet were treated with a truly marvelous sight. Replacing the warm glow of the suns, was not a dazzling array of stars and planets, but a vast galaxy that filled the night's sky. For both safety and practicality, Zonama Sekot had settled in an exo-system that existed far outside the boundaries of the galaxy the Yuuzhan Vong had tried to invade. Every night, the inhabitants of the planet could see that galaxy above them; enthralling spirals of blues, whites, yellows, and purples amidst a field of the darkest of black. They could see every star system, every nebula and quasar.

They were on the outside looking in.

"Are we ever going to go there?" Five year old Cassa Solo asked softly, innocently reaching a small hand up to the distant galaxy. She was tucked once more between her parents, staring through the open skylight of their home at the night's sky.

"One day," Tahiri said softly, lightly resting her head against the top of Cassa's. "One day, Cassa. We'll go to Tatooine, to Mon Calamari, to Yavin Four, and all those other places your daddy and I tell you about in our stories."

"And see Ewoks and fish-people, and people with three eyes?" Cassa tilted her head up towards her mother, her emerald green eyes so like Tahiri's.

"Yeah," Tahiri nodded.

"And I'll get to see daddy's brother and sister, and grandma and grandpa?"

"They'd definitely love you," Anakin smiled supportively. "I know it."

Cassa smiled shyly, turning her gaze back up at the spiral galaxy in the sky in wonder. "It's so big. Have you ever visited all of it, daddy?"

"No," Anakin laughed softly. "I don't think anyone has."

"Oh," Cassa blinked. She then brightened, her curly blond hair framing her young face as she beamed. "Then we can go exploring together when we go back! Like how we did with Zonama when you took me to map the planet."

"We can definitely do that," Anakin shared a loving smile with his wife.

Cassa yawned a big yawn, rubbing at her eyes again. "Can you tell me a story, mommy?"

"Which one do you want to hear this time?"

"The one where daddy asked you to marry him," Cassa murmured, clinging to her mother's shirt. "I like that one."

"I do too," Tahiri said, running a hand through her daughter's hair. "Alright then, do you remember how it starts?"

"Uh huh," Cass nodded tiredly. "You and daddy, and Uncle Jacen and Auntie Jaina and Auntie Tennie just finished beating Shimrra. Auntie Jaina took a shuttle to the Chiss, and Uncle Jacen and Auntie Tennie went back to the Hapes people. Mommy, when we go to that galaxy are we going to go to Hapes?"

"Definitely," Tahiri laughed. "So the others went to their shuttles. And me and daddy?"

"Well, you and daddy…"

_Anakin supposed he had been in worse shape before. Then again, having his leg skewered by a lightsaber and shattered with the Force wasn't exactly something he would want to repeat in the future. Bruised, battered, covered in grime, and exhausted; his battle with Onimi had taken a lot out of him, emotionally, physically, and through the Force. He was still amazed at the raw power his older brother had produced to quite literally vaporize the insane Shamed One. _

_Anakin had grown up with people telling him that he was one of the strongest Jedi out there, that no one had as much Force potential since his uncle. And then to nearly fall to Onimi, see his brother save him and wipe the floor with Onimi with seemingly little effort, it was a definite eye-opener. It was also a relief. Sure he wanted to win the war, beat Shimrra and Onimi and go on to live in peace. But he could already imagine the furor it would cause, the pressure it would create, had __he__ been the one to land that killing blow. It was far better for Jacen to have that honor, to have the attention he deserved._

_Call him a coward, but he had had enough of galactic politics and galaxy saving. Enough of people looking to him to make decisions that would probably get others killed. He himself was quite content to fade away, to have a normal life for once after all the pressure._

"_Credit for your thoughts?" Tahiri asked, her head resting on his shoulder. She still had a nasty concussion from being kicked in the head by Shimrra, and she had only applied the barest of medical aid to the cuts and gashes that covered her._

_They were lying next to each other atop the remains of Shimrra's citadel, waiting for the Veila to finish operations and pick them up. Jaina, Jacen, and Tenel Ka had all departed only moments earlier, leaving the two of them alone. In the meantime, they simply continued to support themselves using their bond; fingers interlaced and breathing almost synchronized._

"_Just thinking about the future," Anakin answered._

"_The future?"_

_ "Well, now that the war's finally over, I think it's safe to start planning for it."_

_"So tell me about it."_

_ "Hmmm?"_

_ "What's in this future you have in mind, Solo?" Tahiri murmured, her eyes closed as she just focused on the warmth of his body and Force presence._

_ "You, mostly. Us," Anakin said honestly, giving her hand a small squeeze. He gestured with his head up towards the looming shadow in the sky. "Living there on Zonama Sekot. Relaxed, helping the Yuuzhan Vong recover from centuries of warring."_

_"Sounds nice," Tahiri sighed. "But won't you miss the rest of your family?"_

_ "You __are__ my family," Anakin turned slightly to kiss the top of her head. "Jaya will be with the military or wherever else she'll end up. Jacen will be going on his galactic sight-seeing of Force sensitive cultures, and mom and dad will still be mired with politics no matter how badly they want to retire. Nothing much will change."_

_"And us?" Tahiri's voice was filled with the same exhaustion he felt; both their bodies having been pushed too and over their limits during the fighting for Coruscant. "In this future of yours, you mentioned an 'us'."_

_ "You, me," Anakin paused, a small rush of embarrassment heating his cheeks. "Any kids we might have."_

_ "Oh?" Tahiri grinned slyly._

_ "Yeah," Anakin managed. His heart was beating quite rapidly from the emotions bouncing back and forth in their bond. "Tahiri."_

"_Hmmm?"_

"_What would you say if I asked you to marry me?"_

_Tahiri's eyes flew open as her sluggish mind registered his question. The words 'of course I will, dummy' were on the tip of her tongue. But then, when she went over his words again and realized what her dummy was actually asking, she raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend. Some part of her enjoyed the grimace on his face as he too reflected on his ill-chosen words._

"_What are you looking for, prior approval?"_

_ Anakin groaned. "That came out wrong."_

_ "Try it again?"_

_ "Yeah."_

_ "On the bright side, you did have the sense to ask __after__ everything life-threatening was finished." _

_ "I was planning to ask you on the elevator ride to the top of Shimrra's tower, but Onimi kind of ruined the mood."_

_ "You're going to make me be thankful of an insane Yuuzhan Vong who manipulated Shimrra into bringing their entire race to this galaxy?" Despite her words, the swooping feeling in her stomach made her quiver in silent anticipation._

_ "Would you rather I slipped a ring on your finger while you were sleeping?"_

_ "Would you rather be kicked where you really don't want to be?" Tahiri mock-glowered. _

_ "Can I start over, please?"_

_ "Waiting."_

_ "Tahiri."_

_ "Mhm?_

_ Anakin swallowed nervously, not sure why asking such a thing was so hard. They'd already become lovers, were best friends, and yet the words he wanted to say continued to get tied up on his tongue. _

_He closed his eyes, his heart and mind awhirl with emotions and memories. He could recall every moment he had with her. The first time they met—her strangely bare feet pattering on the ground and rapid-fire introduction—their adventures from dark side corrupted temples to Yuuzhan Vong controlled planets. The first time he saw her as more than just 'a friend', their first kiss, the first time they made love. She was his partner, his friend, the one who somehow banished is negatude with her cheerily chatty and barefoot ways, and had supported him no matter what. He owed so much to her, wanted to somehow put into words how he felt, but his normally brilliant mind failed him._

_He hadn't realized that he had been thinking out loud, but a surge of emotion from Tahiri caused him to open his own eyes with a calmness that surprised even him. Looking into her wide and watery green eyes, Anakin smiled gently._

"_Tahiri Kwaad, my best friend, will you please marry…"_

_ Anakin was cut off as Tahiri crushed his lips to hers, kissing him fiercely and rolling on top of him in the process. His arms reflexively went around her and they held each other as the kiss slowly ended. He gazed up at her in giddy awe._

_ "…Me."_

_ Eyes shining with happiness, Tahiri squeezed his hands and nodded once. "Yes!"_

"And I haven't regretted that decision ever since," Tahiri finished softly, gazing mostly at her husband as she said it. Their daughter was fast asleep, wrapped up in physical blankets, but also in Force-created layers of their love for each other.

"I love you," Anakin whispered fondly, reaching over to squeeze her hand, the lambent gemstone of her ring glowing softly in the night.

"You too, Hero Boy. I love you too."

**SP(II)SP**

_**Ossus**_

The Jedi Praxeum on Ossus was truly an artistic wonder—its architectural style borrowing heavily from the curvy and wave-like influences seen in Mon Calamari structures, and the more utilitarian building-styles of pre-war Coruscant. The most interesting aspect of the Jedi Order's central academy was that the architecture was also influenced by Yuuzhan Vong building styles as well. The layout of the sprawling compound was very reminiscent of the spiral-galaxy arrangements utilized by the Yuuzhan Vong buildings and fleets, which oddly complimented the Mon Calamari nautical architectural features. Glinting brightly as they caught the sunlight, beautiful white panels curved upwards and outwards like sails sitting atop spiraling, undulating waves. Ridged archways rose up in an intricate pattern amid these white waves, spanning between specific points in the galaxy-shaped structure; the archways symbolically tying together systems that had historical significance to the Jedi Order.

And all around this gleaming white palace was a vast array of forests, caves, and mountains, as well as ruins of ages past. A group of Yuuzhan Vong shapers been heavily involved in the academy's founding, even staying on to help the natural flora and fauna, still stunted even after several millennia, thrive. Their presence, coupled with the talents of Jacen, Jedi Master T'ra Saa, and the other nature-inclined Jedi, made the planet a far cry from the desolate wasteland it had once been and more similar to the paradise it had been in ages past. Like the Ossus of the bygone era of the Old Republic, the planet once again playing an active role in the accumulation of knowledge and teaching of the next generation of galactic protectors.

As the morning light washed over the flowing white arches of the Ossus Praxeum, a small group of students were already deeply immersed in their studies.

"That's it," Jedi Master Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy, or Scout to her students, coached. Now entering the seventieth year of her life, Scout had remained with the Jedi Order despite having a home back on Mandalore. She, like many other Jedi of the previous Order, wanted to dedicate the last of her years teaching the next generation what she knew, sharing with them the secrets of the old order so that they wouldn't be lost forever. "Focus not on what your partner is already doing, but on what they _will_ do."

Ben Skywalker, with the 'older' students, focused his sharp blue eyes on the ten-year old girl across from him. Kani Asari, his best friend and greatest source of distress. They tended to work well together on many assignments. That is, unless they were getting on each other's nerves and angering the other to no end; which seemed to happen just as often as them getting along. Whenever their instructors paired them together, they could only hold their breaths and pray for the best.

Unfortunately, Scout happened to not be as lucky. Kani had been angry with him since last night's meal, and he was _still_ trying to figure out why.

"Ouch!" Ben yelped, shaking his arm off as Kani backed away from her lightning-fast kick.

"Concentrate, Skywalker," Kani said, her voice just a note away from mocking.

Ben shook himself from his thoughts and narrowed his eyes. Recalling the instructions Scout had taught them, he called on the Force and focused on his currently not-so-best-friend. The Force allowed him to sense the air around her, the slight tightening of her muscles as she coiled them for a strike. All at once he could see possible movements, hundreds of ways she could attack him next. He breathed in, released his breath, and tried to determine which of those possibilities was about to occur. Suddenly, one of the images he was seeing darkened.

At the last moment, Ben blocked another spinning kick and tried to dump Kani to the ground. The blond girl, however, used her moment to gracefully launch herself into a series of flips. She landed on her feet, tilted her chin up at him and flipped her hair, before dropping back into her combat stance.

"What'd you do this time, Ben?" Fourteen year old Azil Rhees, a Gran student, said lightly.

"I have no idea," Ben muttered back. Being a Skywalker meant he had friends in all age groups, and Azil was among them.

Using a Gran's innate ability to read emotions, Azil tilted his head. "Whatever it is, you both angered and hurt her. You should probably apologize."

"For what?" Ben said in exasperation.

"I don't know, but I've always heard that apologizing solves a lot of problems. I have to get back to the exercise, now. Master Esterhazy is glaring at me."

"Some help you are!" Ben muttered. He glanced back to Kani, who was awaiting him with a challenging lift of her eyebrow.

Doing his best to conceal his intentions, he began his approach. Her own purple eyes seemed to follow his every step like a hawk, glimmering with anticipation. As a war orphan and someone who had been traumatized by all the deaths she had felt during the Yuuzhan Vong War, Kani normally shunned violence and usage of the Force. But she never seemed to have any problem using it to kick his butt. They had become friends two years earlier, bonding over the fact that they had both been scared to use the Force in any significant manner for fear of feeling more death. They had somehow both helped each other work through their mental hang-ups, and since then would almost always call on the other if they needed help.

If only he could call on their bond and figure out what he did wrong, Ben mentally sighed. He threw out a series of rapid punches, using the hand-to-hand combat techniques also taught by Scout. She dodged the first few and then lashed out with her foot once more.

Ben had never been more grateful for the protection provided by the protective sparring equipment than he had been at that moment.

"Sorry," he managed, quickly pedaling backwards and out of range.

The amethyst fire he saw in her eyes died down slightly as she sent him a pouting glare. "You should be."

He wracked through his mind, trying to find out what about last night's conversation had upset her. Evidently she wasn't as patient and her purple eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter in the morning sunlight. Suddenly Ben found himself watching the previous night's dinner—in the very same courtyard they were now sparring in. He and Kani had become almost ghost-like in appearance, obviously invisible to last night's crowd as the dinner went on all around them.

He wasn't surprised. She had done this several times before; pulled them into the past. The first time it had happened, it had stunned him, but he has since grown used to it. His cousin Jacen had told him that the ability was a form of Flow-Walking, and that Kani seemed to be able to do it intuitively.

She had just explained that it was something she had always been able to do. As a young orphan girl, frightened by the terrors of war, she had wanted her mommy and daddy and had instinctively used the Force to try and be with them. Since then, under Jacen's guidance via comm-calls, she had gained some amount of control over it. But apart from moments with her parents, she could only use her abilities to go back, at most, a few days at a time. She had also only recently gained the ability to take Ben with her when she did.

And now the two of them strode towards their past selves. watching the dinner from the previous night unfold all around them. It was before the Mandalorians had arrived, while everyone was waiting for the serving droids to finish bringing out the food from the kitchens.

_"So, I'm going to be going with my mom, and dad, and Janek, along with my aunt and uncle to see the birth of my cousin's baby. Isn't that cool?"_

_ "Yeah,"_ last-night's Kani said with forced enthusiasm. Unlike the previous night, Ben could clearly feel her emotions this time. Bitterness and jealousy mingled with sadness and hurt as her last-night's self kept up a brave front.

_"Not sure when we'll be back. But I'll have my entire family there so it won't really matter. I mean, I get to see my mom and dad practically every day, but it's nice to just __be__ with them without having to share them with the dozens of other students. And I almost never see Jacen or Jaina. It's been __ages__ since we've had a family outing."_

_ "Have fun."_

_ "I will_," last-night's Ben nodded eagerly. He continued to go on about he looked forward to seeing Jacen again, how he couldn't wait for his uncle to let him fly the _Falcon_, unaware of the pain growing in last-night's Kani's chest.

_ "I'm sure it will be great," _this time last-night's Kani was forced to look away to keep him from seeing a tear form.

All at once, Ben found himself back in the Ossus courtyard. The two suns continued to shine above them, and the students around them continued to train, but they seemed to fade away as he became keenly aware of just how much he had hurt her. Her eyes were shining again, both accusatory, but also full of hurt. And he suddenly felt like the lowest of the lowest scum. Here he had been, going on about his family, about spending time and enjoying the break away from the others, when she really had no family of her own. When she didn't have that luxury to be zipped away for the birth of a cousin's baby, or have that uncle who spoiled her rotten.

Forgetting the exercises, Ben quickly walked to her and hugged her. She stiffened at first, but then began to sniffle as she fiercely returned the hug. "Come back fast, please, Ben?"

"I promise," Ben muttered, using their Force bond to communicate just how sorry he was for unintentionally hurting her. "The moment we leave Hapes, I'll have Uncle Han take me and Janek and mom and dad back here."

Then, as if a switched was flipped, they both froze. Shyly, and with heat rushing to their cheeks, they quickly stepped apart and tried to look anywhere but at each other.

"Time to change partners!" Scout called out conveniently, her amusement-filled gaze lingering on two of her younger students.

"We'll go to our spot after this?" Ben asked.

Kani nodded, wringing her hands. "Yeah. I meant it though, have fun with your family."

"Want a souvenir from Hapes? I mean, Cousin Jacen _is_ the dad of the Queen Mother's baby."

Kani nodded again. "I'll tell you later."

And just like that, the two were an unbeatable team again, even if they had just changed partners.

**SP(III)SP**

_**Csilla**_

The House Nuruodo palatial estate deep beneath one of Csilla's glaciers hadn't changed one bit from the last time she was there. Chiss adherence to military and tradition ensured that the frozen grounds and interior were well-cared for and immaculate. Shades of blue, gray, and silver were everywhere one looked, keeping with the disciplined and ordered theme of Chiss culture.

Stepping off the underground tram-cart and onto the adjacent platform, Jaina released a breath of visible air. "Here we are again."

"Indeed," Jag said, noting the 'Astronavigation' sign above the door before them.

"I still can't believe the Chiss turned the hole I made in the wall during the war into another doorway."

"Standard Chiss efficiency. You even saved them the demolition fees of creating the hole in the first place."

"Right," Jaina smirked.

The two entered the room, following the various directional signs in silence. As they grew close to the observatory, they could hear two familiar voices echo down the stairwell.

_"No! No! Don't do it! Please!"_

_ "You have no choice in the matter. I am the one holding the blaster."_

_ "Why are you doing this? My family gave you everything!"_

_ "You cannot be that naïve. Your father has been manipulating my life since the start. If you won't help me, then you'll die right here like the pathetic excuse for a woman you are."_

Jaina and Jag glanced at each other in bewilderment, and then quickly ran up the spiral staircase. They burst into the top floor, Jag with blaster drawn and Jaina with a hand on her lightsaber, both breathing heavily. The sight drew the both of them short.

"Really James, if you're going to help me read lines, can you do it with more emotion?" A completely unharmed and vibrant Wynnsa Fel protested, waving a datapad in the air as she lay on the observatory floor in some sort of 'princess' costume. "And I _know_ that the script says something a tad bit harsher than 'pathetic excuse for a _woman_'."

"I'm not the actor in this room, Wyn," the translucent-haired James, said in the same dry voice he normally spoke. Lying on the floor with his head opposite of Wyn's, he was stiffly holding a similar datapad above himself; as if it were some type of alien creature that would devour him whole. Somehow, Wyn had managed to convince him to wear a modified Imperial Colonel uniform, complete with the olive green hat and rank insignia. "Besides, I was taught that calling one's girlfriend a 'whore' was generally frowned upon in most civilized cultures."

"This from the guy who makes me open my own doors and pull out my own chairs," Wyn said in amusement. "Really, how do you expect me to respond like I'm some kind of damsel in distress if you sound as threatening as my brother does during his little lectures?"

"Your superior acting skills. And we have company."

"Oh, hey Jag!" Wyn called out, tilting her head back to give her an upside-down view of her brother and his girlfriend. "What's with the blasters and lightsword?"

"Your superior acting skills," Jag said drolly, holstering his blaster and shaking his head. "It's been a while, Wyn."

"No kidding." Wyn pulled herself to her feet and promptly hugged her big brother. "Missed you."

"The feeling is mutural."

"Good to see you too, Jaina. This big lug taking care of you?"

"You are the second person in our family to ask that," Jag said, clearing his throat. "Is it expected that I would not know how to treat the Jedi Ambassador properly?"

"Nah, we trust you with the Jedi Ambassador, it's the girlfriend part I've had doubts about," Wyn smiled impishly.

"He's doing just fine," Jaina laughed, accepting a hug from the younger woman. "Jag and I saw your last movie, you did great! I still can't believe that your character is based off of me, and that your writers didn't completely screw up the portrayal of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion of the Ascendancy."

"Tell me about it!" Wyn practically bubbled. "And thanks again for the crash-course in Jedi knowledge! I actually knew what I was talking about when the director told me to 'sound like a Jedi and impress the seven hells out of people' during the ad lib portions. And the fact you even lent me your lightsaber for the movie! The director knows he won't get a better connected actress for your role, so I'm currently in negotiations to do a whole HoloNet series!"

"I look forward to the 'Adventures of Jayna Solus,'" Jaina said fondly. She gestured over to the still prone form of James. "You and James been doing well in the meantime?"

"Better then well," Wyn nodded eagerly. "In fact…Jag would probably want me to spare him the details until he's out of hearing range though."

"I'd prefer it if there were no 'details' in the first place," Jag groaned, trying to glare at the clone. James, however, was utterly immune; much like Wyn was. He instead casually moved over to a computer console, paying the Assistant Syndic of the CEDF little notice. Jagged looked helplessly at Jaina, who was too busy trying to hide her laughter to help. "You discression is most appreciated, however, Wyn."

"No problem, big brother. Oh, by the way, James has some news for you. Right?"

"As Assistant Syndic of the Astronavigation branch, I've managed to stumble across some very interesting findings," the Force-senstive clone began, leaning against a nearby computer. "I've heard it recently that we've been having a bug problem, so I went back to look for known Killik sightings." He reached behind him and absently tapped a few keys. The domed ceiling went black and a holographic image of the Unknown Regions appeared all around them. Several systems and hyperspace lines were illuminated in different colors.

"The Killiks are there?"

"Not quite," James shook his head. "Long-range probes and survey teams only found evidence that the Killiks passed through those zones. But look at where they are in relation to other known cultures."

"That's prime Vagaari space," Jag frowned.

"And the path they took at the southern edge is through Ssi-ruuvi territory," Jaina gestured to a second set of colors.

"The trails continue until the Outer Rim, Bakura-side and Esfandia-side," Wyn continued in a subdued voice.

"I really don't like what I think you're saying," Jaina clenched a fist. "Are you telling me that we have Killiks in the galaxy already?"

"These surveys are at least five years old," James nodded. "So unless the Killiks doubled back, yes. And given that there are no signs of a return trip, they've probably been active for quite some time."

"And how has no one picked up on this?" Jag traced one of the paths through the air.

"Each of these sightings are literally six to seven months apart, all in separate surveys and in different parts of the unexplored territories," Wyn answered solemnly, showing a serious side she rarely let anyone see. "There was no clear pattern, no reason to believe that the Killiks were up to anything suspicious, at least until the recent attacks. The fact that the Killiks weren't threatening Chiss space, or encroaching on our colonies also meant that High Command probably didn't give them a second thought. I mean, what are bugs to their new and shiny Star Destroyers?"

"Any more recent surveys?"

James shook his head. "Still compiling the CEDF information coming in from the latest attacks, but all signs say that the attackers utilized unstable hyperspace lanes that lead deeper into the Unknown Regions."

"More evidence that the attackers were Killik."

"Yes."

"There's another question that needs asking," Jaina said, the tension in her voice attracting curious glances from the others. "What happened to the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium and Vagaari Empire? The Galactic Alliance and Bakurans both reported that the Imperium went quiet three years ago. And we haven't even seen a single Vagaari saucer in five years. If the Killik's path took them through those territories…"

"The Vagaari and Ssi-ruuvi were either wiped out or became Joiners," Wyn finished.

"For once, I hope wiped out," Jaina shuddered.

James agreed with a terse nod. "If the hive minds have absorbed Ssi-ruuvi and Vagaari thought processes, the Killiks will have become a threat unlike any we've seen before."

**SP(IV)SP**

_**Denon**_

Even though the fighting was over, the drama wasn't over yet. Denon security authorities had been on scene for all of ten minutes when a second group of individuals arrived, flashed a badge, and shooed the local officials away.

"Interesting," Trista noted, standing by Zekk and Taryn in front of one of the dining tables.

Though they had decided to stick around as witnesses, they were quite the sight themselves. With the way they were positioned, it was almost as if they were part of a fashion shoot for some holomagazine.

Seated at the table, Zekk was covered from head to toe in dust and debris, his dark hair a mess. He was shirtless, having used his Jedi robes as makeshift bandages for several of the injured victims of the attack, so the dust only seemed to emphasis every muscle of his lean torso. He was flanked by the lethally toned and beautiful Zel twins, standing on either side of him like bodyguards; their form-emphasizing Rancor-leather dresses and black, knee-high krayt dragon leather boots, equally debris-covered.

None of the three had a scratch on them, however, which couldn't be said for their charges kneeling before them.

"Galactic Alliance Intelligence?" Taryn guessed, eyeing the newcomers in the same analytical way her sister was doing.

"They got here rather quick," Zekk commented, absently accepting a new shirt handed to him by one of the relief workers with a nod of thanks.

"The former Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance fleets, Sien Sovv, _was_ just killed in the attack," Trista offered. "And the mercenaries, as poorly trained as they were, did have a strange amount of firepower."

"Well, we'll get our answers soon. They're heading straight for us," Taryn murmured.

A dark-skinned woman, her hair tied back in a professional bun, approached with a small entourage of formal-wear wearing individuals behind her. "Jedi Knight Zekk, Ladies Taryn and Trista Zel, I am Director Belindi Kalenda, head of Galactic Alliance Intelligence."

"What can we do for you, Director?" Zekk asked, standing.

"I merely wish to ensure your cooperation in investigating this tragic speeder accident that touched off a gas explosion," Belindi said directly, as if she herself was a Jedi impressing upon them the version of events.

"Speeder accident," Taryn repeated slowly.

"Yes," Belindi raised an eyebrow.

"Politics," Zekk said softly. "Cal Omas' cabinet is already in hot water for the Tion Hegemony and all the other problems. The capital can't be made to look vulnerable to those problems or he'd lose all credibility."

"Correct, Jedi Zekk," Belindi replied. "So does that mean I have your support in this matter?"

"Our new friends?" Zekk gestured to the apprehended thugs.

"We'll take care of them."

"Do you know who hired them?"

"We'll take care of it."

"That's a no," Taryn said, rising from her chair, her entire body seemingly coiling for a proverbial strike. Growing up in a society where lies and deceit were the norm, she despised cover-ups and purposeful misleading of the public. "What's to stop more of these 'speeder accidents' from happening, Director?"

"She does have a point," Zekk said mildly.

"Jedi involve themselves in investigations of local speeder crashes now?" Belindi challenged. "I would imagine your order is in just as much trouble as Cal Omas is. I don't tell you and your order how to become galactic pariahs and you don't tell me how to do my job."

"Then we're free to go?" Trista said, placing a restraining hand on her more excitable twin.

"So long as you know that if you say that this was anything other than a speeder accident you'll be arrested for treason, yes."

"We'll leave you to it, then," Zekk said. "You know our comm-frequency if you need to get in touch."

The trio turned around and calmly walked to the turbolift of the now ruined restaurant. Once the doors had closed, Taryn glowered at the plastisteel wall, seething. "A speeder crash? A speeder crash! Zekk, don't tell me that the Jedi Order's picked up a habit of lying to the general public now? I get enough lies on Hapes. If we don't tell someone and another attack happens…"

"Taryn," Trista said with patient amusement.

"What!" The red-head rounded on her sister.

"Has it crossed your mind that Zekk is a Jedi."

"I know he's one. What of it?"

"And Jedi can take information from people's heads if the safety of the general public relies on it?"

Taryn blinked. "Oh."

"Surely you wouldn't have let that pathetic excuse for a woman bully you, right?" Trista arched an eyebrow at their male companion; her words were every much a warning as they were a threat.

"You two have been a bad influence on me," Zekk sighed, nodding wearily.

"So," Taryn perked up. "Where are we heading to next?"

"Don't the two of you have a Queen Mother to protect?" Zekk reminded.

Taryn and Trista looked at each other, and then Trista pulled out a comlink. "Your Majesty, this is Trista."

_"Go ahead. Is something wrong?"_

"Jedi Knight Zekk has conscripted myself and Taryn on a mission of great importance. The safety and wellbeing of the people of Denon rely on it. Requesting permission to temporarily work in concert with the Jedi Order on such a matter."

_"You have my permission to assist Jedi Knight Zekk on such a mission. I will be at the Jedi Temple after the Senate meeting, so you can find me there when it is time for us to depart."_

"Understood," Trista said professionally.

Zekk simply hung his head, unable to keep himself from smiling in amusement. "Thanks Tenel Ka, I could use the backup."

_"Will you be needing further assistance? Trista is not one to exaggerate the importance of a mission."_

"Possibly, we're heading to the Old City," Zekk said into Trista's comlink. "Think the Jedi Order can spare a guide or two?"

_"One moment…Jedi Master Klin-Fa Gi informs me that Jedi Padawan Rali Xici and Siare Amah are experts in the area. Where would you like to meet them?"_

"Warehouse district, third ward," Zekk answered. "Thanks again."

_"It is no trouble. Taryn, Trista, please see to it that Zekk survives this mission more or less the way you found him. He is a dear friend of mine and I would hate to have anything happen to him."_

"You can count on us, Your Majesty," Trista said. "We'll contact you with the results when we're finished. Trista Zel out."

"You were saying?" Taryn said with a mischievous grin.

"Let's just find out where those attackers came from," Zekk replied drolly, the turbolift doors opening once more. He knew he should have known better than to try to win an argument with both of them. "We're fortunate that the Jedi Order doesn't have to take orders from GA Intelligence."

"We're not _that_ fortunate," Taryn said, glaring back at the upper floors of the building. "If GA Intelligence was any good, we wouldn't have to be doing this."

"So you would rather our meeting for the first time in several months end at lunch?" Zekk said innocently, well aware of Taryn's feelings for him. It was something that had developed during his stay on Hapes those two years ago, and it surprised and flattered him to say the least.

But it hadn't always started out like that.

_After the less than friendly meeting, the first in five years, the trip back to his ship was made in complete silence; the floor-to-ceiling windows offering him faint glimpses of the planet outside as a small reprieve. If Zekk didn't know any better, he could swear that he was feeling both shame and anger irradiate out from his guide, both aimed towards different targets. He didn't say anything though, and neither did she. In fact, it appeared as if the last thing she wanted to do was be anywhere near him._

_ "Five years. In that time, you could have at least left a holo-message, you know," Taryn said unexpectedly._

_ "Huh?"_

_ "After we parted ways on Tatooine. I checked my message box almost daily hoping to hear from you. At first I blamed the downed HoloNet for the reason why I didn't even get a 'hey, how are you doing after getting your head kicked in' message. But when the HoloNet was restored, and still nothing?" There was a biting accusation in her voice, but her gaze remained locked firmly on some point ahead of them. "I eventually understood. I was being a foolish little girl. I was just a little girl to your eyes, a bother. One of the many forgettable faces you met as you zipped around the stars doing your Jedi business. Not like you had the time to let me know how you were doing. That you had survived the final battle when nearly three-quarters of your Order was killed."_

_"Taryn, it wasn't like that…"_

_ "Did you know, I had to hear it from the media channels that you had survived the war? I needed to eavesdrop on an intel brief to the Queen Mother to learn that you were dating a fellow Jedi? Jedi Knight Marek was it? I don't know what Trista or the Queen Mother are thinking, but don't expect me to just spill my heart out to you because we've finally met again. We're not friends, probably never were."_

_ The surge of bitterness and self-loathing took Zekk completely off-guard, almost as much as her words. As Taryn's rant echoed off the walls of the empty hallway, he could almost see the ball of hurt and anguish at the core of her being._

_ "Taryn," he tried._

_ "We're almost to your ship, Jedi Knight Zekk. You should be able to find your way back from here."_

_ Before Zekk could take another step, things went from hostilely awkward to worse. A young Hapan nobleman appeared at the other end of the hallway and made his way towards them, his very aura projecting confidence and strength._

_ "Taryn," he smiled, blue eyes glittering charmingly._

_ "Zee," Taryn stammered. She seemed to freeze in her spot, her eyes darting back and forth between Zekk and the new arrival._

_ "I thought I heard your voice," 'Zee's' smile was every bit as attractive as the rest of him. Dark hair, sparkling eyes, he was physically fit and looked dashing in the deep blue clothing of a Hapan noble. Zekk didn't know much about this man, but ' Zee' already seemed to stand out from the usual Hapans he had met. "The Queen Mother told me I'd find you here. Are you having any trouble?"_

_ "No, no trouble at all," Taryn said quickly._

_ "Okay. It's been three months, have you made up your mind yet? I know your sister doesn't approve, but…"_

_ "I still need more time," Taryn blurted out. "Sorry. Now if you could leave…"_

_ "Taryn?" Zekk blinked._

_ "Where are my manners?" the Hapan noble held out a hand towards Zekk. "Greetings. The name's Zedal AlGray, fourth in line to the Noble House of AlGray."_

_ "Zekk, Jedi Knight," Zekk said, automatically shaking the outstretched hand._

_ "Pleasure, you know Lady Taryn Zel?"_

_ "We've…met. You know her?"_

_ "I should hope so, we're betrothed," Zedal said with a laugh. "Isn't that right, Taryn?"_

"Of course not," Taryn laughed at Zekk, wrapping her arms around one of his in a playful manner, bringing him back to the present. "We barely get to spend enough time with you as it is."

"We have our duties, Taryn," Trista said dryly.

"Don't give me that, sister," Taryn shot back. "You're just as eager to spend time on a dangerous mission with Zekk as I am."

"Maybe not _as _eager as you," Trista muttered under her breath. "Some people shouldn't be mixing business and pleasure after all."

"You are such a Dug, Trista," Taryn rolled her eyes with a laugh.

Zekk just smiled. He offered his other arm to Trista, who raised an eyebrow but accepted it nonetheless."Come on, we have a planetary disaster in the making to stop."

"Just one of your usual Jedi missions, nothing special," Trista said glibly, the trio walking to a black, sleek Hapan speeder.

"You know, Jedi and 'disaster' aren't supposed to go together so easily," Zekk replied. "We're keepers of the peace, not the galaxy's saviors."

"Tell that to all the idiots who think launching a galaxy-destabilizing plan in the presence of the Jedi is a good thing," Taryn remarked brightly, inclining her head in acknowledgment as Zekk opened the speeder door for her, and then did the same for Trista. "Then again, you do manage to keep our lives interesting."

"I'll hold you to those remarks once we face whoever it is we're supposed to be facing," Zekk said.

"It can't be _that_ bad," Taryn shrugged. "Don't worry, Zekk. You have me and Trista watching your back. Queen Mother's orders."

"Thanks," Zekk exhaled, settling into the driver's seat. "Well, let's see what the Force has in store for us this time."

**SP(V)SP**

_**Corellia**_

"Dad?" Jysella asked, she, her father, and her brother passing through the doors of her great-grandfather's estate. "Are we really doing this?"

Corran held up a hand, activating the estate's anti-surveillance network as the heavy wooden doors closed behind them. Releasing a breath, Corran made a sound of assent. "Yes."

"But Tenel Ka…"

"Jysella, you and Valin helped get the current Prime Minister elected, against my own wishes I might add," Corran said. They took their places around a dining table.

"Of the candidates for Prime Minister, she was the best option," Valin said defensively.

"Of the candidates for Prime Minister, she's still a politician, and a seasoned one at that," Corran corrected. "Both she and this Heritage Council of Hapes are taking a dangerous gamble, and she should know that. If it backfires, she could end up uniting the rest of the Galactic Alliance against the 'Corellian Aggressors' and breathe new life into Cal Omas' stint as Chief of State. Corellia has Adumar, Fondor, and countless other systems on _their_ side. The Hapan Consortium has only just begun establishing firm ties with outside systems. Given how insular they are, I'm surprised at how successful their alliance with the Bothans has been. In any case, unless done right, this little coup the Heritage Council is planning might blow up into a full-scale galactic civil war."

"So why back Natua and Master Krahnn?" Valin frowned, alarm growing on his face.

"Because the coup is going to happen no matter what the Jedi say," Corran said sternly. "Both Jedi Knight Wan and Master Krahnn picked up on that in the meeting. Saxan and her Hapan allies are already in position to strike, going to us was just a formality."

Jysella felt the pieces click into place, her mind overclocking as she sought to condense all of the information of the past day. "It's better to remain in the loop than outside of it. If the Jedi are in a position to keep the conflict small by being a part of the conflict, we can steer events to avoid the bigger civil war this might trigger."

"Exactly," Corran said. "As unfortunate as it is, this situation will no doubt put us on opposite sides of the Jedi Council and our friends. But, apart from averting a civil war among the Galactic Alliance's allies, I sense something else at play."

"Something else?" Jysella blinked.

"Aidel Saxan, as skilled as she is, has been manipulated into this war without her realizing it. A war being driven by elements within the Hapan government. You heard the briefing, this Heritage Council tried to reach out to her predecessor four years ago, but he didn't accept their offer. A new leader, a new offer, and we have the situation we have now. Hapes is famous for their attempted coups, but they're also famous for keeping those coups in-house. They might hire one or two outside assassins, but they've never gotten a foreign government involved. Something in the Force is telling me that we're missing something, and only by participating in the events as they unfold will we discover what that is."

The sound of someone clapping above their heads startled all three Horns.

"Oooo, rebelling against the establishment. That sounds fun! Can I join?"

All three Horns immediately jerked in alarm, hands flying to their lightsabers as they turned their gaze to the rafters of the old estate. A single shadow was just barely visible in the twilight coming in from the nearby window.

The shadow was definitely female, and also definitely Twi'lek. The figure rolled off the side of the support beam and landed with a graceful flourish. The figure, despite showing obvious signs of dark-side corruption, wore a familiar black leather outfit and matching thigh-high boots.

Sunken yellow eyes gleamed as she delighted in their shocked expressions. "Tada, miss me?"

"Alema!" Jysella gasped.

"Alema!?" Valin blinked.

"Alema?" Corran was nonplussed.

"Yup, yup, and 'Hi, Master'."

"What are you doing here?" Jysella managed.

"What happened to your face?" Valin said, his brain still non-functional.

"Where have you been?" Corran said, faring no better than his children.

"Here to help, my job has really poor health benefits, and I've been around," Alema ticked off each question with a grin that stretched the lightning-scarred half of her face. The rest of her face was worse than gaunt, very skeletal in appearance, as if her skin was stretched over the very bones of her skull.

"You _are_ a wanted criminal, you know that, right?" Jysella said, her shock giving way into disbelief and anger. "What in blazes are you…?"

"Hold that thought," Alema winked. A serious mask fell over her face as she bypassed Jysella and Valin. "Master Horn—you are a real Master now, right—anyways the people I currently work for are getting really concerned about the state of things. They don't like losing control of situations, so given my past ties to the Jedi Order, they felt that I would be better serving the cause if I went back. You Jedi are supposed to be high on forgiveness after all. I mean, Durron blew up a solar system but for a couple of years he was part of the galaxy's decision-making body. I would have gone to Anakin first, but he's kind of unavailable. I figured as my former Master, you'd at least give me some leeway."

"The people you work for?" Corran said suspiciously. "Alema, you bear all the signs of someone corrupted by the dark side."

"Uh huh," Alema glanced at one of her dark blue arms, the veins prominent. She then tilted her head back at Corran. "Yup. And?"

"Alema."

"Look, from what I hear, the Jedi are shorthanded as it is. You're going to need all the help you can get. Besides, given what you're planning, isn't it better for me to return and join you Corellians? It'll cement the 'we've gone rogue' angle you're looking for, and it allows me to stay out of prison, which is definitely a plus."

"You're going to have to do better than that, Alema," Corran said sternly, the shock of her appearance wearing off.

"I can always do my disappearing act and investigate whoever is behind this war by myself," Alema shrugged apathetically. "I'm only coming to you guys because I thought it'd be fun playing 'Jedi' for a little bit."

"'Playing Jedi?'" Corran repeated blankly.

"You said it yourself, Master Horn, I hardly look the image for goodness and all things Jedi," Alema did a little pirouette with her bony arms out above her head. "Come on, for old time's sake?"

"She is right," Valin said reluctantly. "I doubt Master Skywalker and the rest of the Jedi would fully believe that _the _Corran Horn has suddenly decided to go against the status quo. You were one of the first of this new Order, have a background in intelligence, even played the bad guys before when you were searching for mom. If the other Jedi don't believe it, then we're going to run out of room to maneuver real fast. She can give us that room."

"Always knew you were my favorite Horn. After Sella, and your mom, and your dad that is."

"Gee, thanks," Valin shot back.

"Anytime. So, Master. What will it be? Shall I slink away and you three forget you ever saw me?"

"No," Corran said automatically. He then took a moment to organize his thoughts. "No, you can stay."

"Goody!"

"But we do everything by the book," Corran said sternly.

"There's a book that tells you how to pretend to be renegade Jedi and launch a war where the other side is full of your friends?" Alema blinked owlishly. "I definitely have to read that one."

"You know what I mean."

"I'll be on my best behavior." Alema's face transformed into a wolfish grin. She spun around and whistled as she took in the rest of the estate. "Big place for Jedi. Do you really need eight bedrooms?"

"Just…" Corran rubbed at his face. "Just let me know before you blow something up or kill someone, or cause some sort of political disturbance or general mayhem."

Alema winked over her shoulder. "Hey, it's me."

"That's what I was afraid of," Corran sighed, his source of anguish now sauntering down the hallway, admiring the paints and other works of art along the way. "Do you have a place to stay at least? A _legal_ place to stay?"

"Already unloaded all my gear in the guest room." The Twi'lek ran her hand along a wooden table, and then over a hanging tapestry, whistling a merry tune as she did. "Really nice house you guys have here. What're we having for eating?"

Valin cleared his throat. "That's up to Jysella's boyfriend."

"_Friend_," Jysella emphasized, shooting her brother a lethal glare. "He's just a friend."

"Again?"

"Val," Jysella growled warningly.

"Ooooo, you have a boyfriend!" Alema said eagerly, abandoning her perusal of the hallway and shooting an eager grin at the youngest Horn. "Is he a good…"

"He's a very good friend," Jysella turned her glare onto the Twi'lek, even as her cheeks reddened.

"Can't wait to meet him. It's been ages since I could just sit around a table and have a meal," Alema said perkily.

"Ages?" Jysella frowned in confusion.

"Last sit-down meal I had was before that mission to the Remnant on Mon Cal, with you guys."

"That was almost nine years ago!"

Alema's expression faltered for fractions of a second. It wasn't long, but the three sharp-eyed Horns picked up on it instantly.

"Alema?" Corran said, his voice gentle.

"It's nothing," Alema forced out an unconvincing smile, even as she hugged herself with one arm. "Can't believe it's been that long though. Now it makes me want to eat a meal with you guys even sooner. He going to be long?"

Jysella glanced at the nearest clock. "Tarc should be off-loading his last customers now, so in another half-hour or so."

"Well, if I've gone nine years without a home-cooked meal, I guess I can wait another half-hour."

"In the meantime, why don't you tell us where you've been?" Corran half-suggested. "You had a lot of people worried for you."

"Please, apart from you guys and Anakin and Tahiri, the rest of the galaxy couldn't give a bantha's hindquarters about me," Alema rolled her eyes. She softened the gesture with a faint smile and nodded once. "But I've definitely got some fun stories to share. Provided you guys tell me all about Sella's boyfriend. Sharing has to go both ways after all."

"Friend! And no deal!"

"Deal!" Valin said simultaneously.

Corran just held his head. "On a second thought, maybe we should eat first. Go on and finish settling in, Alema. I've got some unofficial calls to make."

"You used to be so much fun," Alema pouted at first, but then she shrugged, looking strangely guarded. "Let me know when Sella's _friend_ arrives. I'll be in the guest room."

**SP(VI)SP**

_**Hapes**_

Jacen smiled tenderly at the sight of Tenel Ka cradling their newborn daughter against her. The peace and happiness coming off the normally stern Queen Mother of sixty-three systems was something he never thought he'd feel so openly from her. Never thought he'd feel himself. He used the Force to send both his daughter and his lover all of the love he felt for the two of them, and Tenel Ka looked up at him with affectionate gray eyes.

"Thank you, Jacen."

He leaned forward and kissed her sweat-slickened forehead. "Thank _you_, for giving us such a wonderful daughter. I can already see her as the future Queen Mother of Hapes. She's going to be amazing."

Tenel Ka gently looked at the sleeping form tucked protectively in her arm. The strongest of emotions were shining from her as she let her fingers caress the very soft skin of her daughter's cheek. "Yes, she is. Allana is so much like her father, strong in the Force."

"Like her mother too," Jacen kissed Tenel Ka once more.

"She comes from very strong families."

"Between Taryn, Trista, my apprentices, and our two families, she's going to have more than enough people spoiling her silly," Jacen chuckled softly. He looked to the healers who had helped with the birth. "Thank you, the two of you, for helping."

The Mon Calamari healer, Jedi Master Cilghal smiled gently. "It was no problem, Jacen Solo. The birth of a child is always a refreshing break from my usual duties. Especially when it is a child of two young Jedi I have had the pleasure of watching grow up into fine people they are today."

The second of the two medical professionals, Hapan doctor Lalu Morwan, bowed low. "Thank _you_ for the honor, Jedi Solo, Your Highness. I am simply fortunate enough to be the first Hapan in the presence of the _chume'da_."

Tenel Ka and Jacen bowed their heads in turn, and Cilghal smiled warmly. "I will leave you to things, then. Your child is in perfect health, Queen Mother."

"And I will go let the media know that the line of succession is secure with the birth of your beautiful daughter. By your leave," the Hapan doctor bowed one last time, and then left the room on Tenel Ka's assenting nod.

At the mention of Allana, Jacen turned back to his daughter, lightly touching her seemingly impossibly tiny hand with one of his fingers. Allana reflexively gripped it and didn't let go. He swallowed heavily, his eyes flicking back up to her mother. "And you'll be fine caring for her?"

"It was what we agreed to, wasn't it?" Tenel Ka nodded hesitantly, using the Force to communicate her reassurance.

_A night of passion within the privacy of the Queen Mother's quarters. A clear night's sky. A fresh breeze wafting in from the open balcony doors, cooling their sweat-slickened bodies. The room was dark save for the soft glow that emanated from the planet's seven moons and the dazzling aura of the Transitory Mists. Silent save for rustling of trees outside and the occasional call of a night bird._

_"I could stay," Jacen whispered softly, hand stroking the toned stomach of the woman he loved. The life they had started together was extremely faint, but definitely present. "Stay here, on Hapes. Together we can raise our child together, be a family."_

"_We both know that would never work, my dear friend," Tenel Ka returned, her voice just as soft, but full of regret. "My duty is to Hapes, yours is to the galaxy as a whole. You deal with enough politics at the Senate, the last thing you need is to worry about Hapan politics, and the daily assassination attempts on top of that."_

"_Tiki…"_

"_Jacen, the galaxy needs you. You are meant for so much more than just one planet or cluster of systems. With your position, you can make the whole galaxy so much better than it is right now; do more for our child out there, than here on Hapes."_

_Jacen went quiet, staring up at the smooth stone ceiling of the royal chambers. It had been painted to resemble a Dathomiri night's sky, glittering stars peeking out against light wispy clouds._

"_That's not to say I will not miss you," Tenel Ka whispered, giving his arm a hug. "I want our child to have her father in her life as much as possible. I __want__ you to be in my life as much as possible. But if you stay too long on Hapes, you'll be dragged into the court intrigue and backstabbing that has become as much a culture on Hapes as it is its primary weakness. You don't need that distraction, not when your decisions affect things greater than Hapes. I will raise our daughter, and maybe by the time she takes the throne things will changed enough for her to actually be with the one she loves. To have that family we were denied because of our duties, because of politics." _

"I know, but it doesn't mean I have to like that arrangement," Jacen sighed, continuing to touch his daughter both physically and through the Force. He had yet to lose that wonder-struck expression that had come over him ever since Allana's arrival into the world.

"The feeling is mutual. Were it possible I would rule Hapes with you at my side," Tenel Ka said, her voice catching slightly as she fought back a surge of emotion. "But the Force was kind enough to let us have this wonderful child. I do not wish to tempt fate any more than necessary."

Jacen swallowed heavily and nodded. "You're right. After everything we've gone through, I should be thankful just for being able to have the two of you. Are you ready for the others now?"

Tenel Ka tilted her head, somehow still looking regal despite being in a hospital gown. "I am."

Exhaling, Jacen reluctantly freed his finger from the tiny fist of his daughter and pushed away from the bedside. "Be back in a moment."

He strode across the room and the doors opened on his signal. Awaiting directly on the opposite side were Tenel Ka's loyal protectors and his apprentices. His two apprentices had been talking to Taryn and Trista in low voices, no doubt relaying what they were feeling in the Force. As they took note of him, four pairs of eyes looked up at him eagerly.

"Jedi Solo?"

"They're both okay," Jacen smiled reassuringly.

"Then we'll stand guard until you return with the former Queen Mother and the others," Trista said solemnly. "No one will get past us and harm your family; I swear it in the name of House Zel."

"Thanks. You don't have to be so serious though, Trista."

"Go get the others already," Taryn ordered, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she gestured to a room further down the hallway.

"Alright, alright."

Chuckling to himself, Jacen continued through the short hallway and to the nearby waiting room, a definite bounce in his step. The doors swooshed open, and expectant eyes all turned to him once more.

Smiling broadly he held out his hands at his family and friends. His parents, Isolder and Teneniel, Zekk, Lowbacca, Luke and Mara and their children, were all seated with equally wide grins. "They're both fine. Come on, let me introduce you to Allana."

"Allana?" Ten year old Ben Skywalker tilted his head questioningly. He was sitting with Jedi Initiate Kani Asari, one of his friends from the Ossus Praxeum, and they both hopped off their chairs to join the others.

"Yup, named after my little brother, and the founder of the Force Witches on Dathomir."

Jacen felt a small pang inside as he said it. He hadn't seen nor heard from his brother at all since the end of the war. Zonama Sekot was outside the range of any HoloNet buoys and the convoys that went to and from the planet were heavily guarded and top-secret due to the delicate nature of their presence within the galaxy. Added to the fact that his travels and his job as Jedi representative to the Senate had kept himself occupied, and he really didn't know anything about how his brother was doing outside of vague Force impressions. It was as if Anakin truly was dead to the rest of the galaxy.

As quick as the pang came, however, it disappeared as he forced those emotions away. Now was the time for celebrations of family present, not family lost.

"Jacen?" Janek Skywalker, Ben's younger brother, looked up at him with a small distressed crease on his forehead.

"Sorry about that," Jacen ruffled Janek's messy red hair. He sometimes forgot how empathic Force sensitive children could be to their surroundings. He made a note to remember that in the future. The last thing he wanted now was to hurt Allana with his troubled thoughts. He forced himself to smile again. "You're going to be an uncle now, Janek. Astral, isn't it?"

The seven-year old's eyes widened. "Wow, an uncle!"

"Yeah," Jacen chuckled as Janek ran off to tell his brother.

"Aren't they going to be second-cousins?" Zekk whispered.

"Shush, you try explaining complex kinship relations to a seven-year old," Jacen whispered back good-naturedly.

Reaching the door to the med-bay, the twins and two apprentices standing guard quickly bowed to the former Queen Mother and stepped back respectfully. Taryn activated the door panel for the small delegation, and the four waited until the group had entered before following them in.

Inside the med-room, a still glowing Tenel Ka sat with her daughter tucked against her, a tired but elated grin on her face.

"Mother, Father," Tenel Ka acknowledged her parents, unable to stop smiling despite the fatigue of childbirth. "Han, Leia."

"Daughter." Isolder stepped forward behind Teneniel. They were an interesting pair. Teneniel was once again wearing her standard Dathomiri leathers, but Isolder had on the proper dress of a Hapan noble. From the way they were holding hands, it was clear though that their absence from each other hadn't lessened the feelings the two had for each other one bit.

"Allana, these are your grandparents," Tenel Ka said gently to the sleeping child.

Teneniel rested a hand on the tiny bundle with the utmost of care, eyes briefly flickering close as she did. After a second, her eyes opened and she looked upon her daughter with kindness. "She will be a strong and wise ruler, Tenel Ka, like yourself. Always will she be surrounded by her friends and family, and be loved by her people."

Tenel Ka released a relieved breath. "Thank you, mother."

Teneniel smiled tenderly at her daughter embraced her and Allana in a hug. "You are everything I could have hoped for and more, Tenel Ka. I hope that your daughter will make you as proud as I am of you."

Tenel Ka couldn't help but shed tears of happiness as she nodded and whispered. "I love you."

"And I you," Teneniel and Isolder took a step back to allow Han and Leia to take their place. Both sets of parents exchanged smiles that were all excitement and joy.

"Congratulations," Han said with genuine happiness. "If Your Highness ever needs a royal babysitter, Leia and I would be happy to take over. We'll give the princess a ride or two in the _Falcon._"

Tenel Ka smiled broadly, laughing as soft as she could as to not wake the baby. "Hapes thanks you and will more than likely take you up on your offer."

As the grandparents continued to fuss and admire the newborn, the others gathered around a still bewildered Jacen.

"You're a dad," Zekk chuckled.

"Still trying to get my head around that," Jacen said, making a sound of amusement. "And don't forget, Zekk, you agreed to be Allana's godfather."

"Hard to forget that." Zekk slapped Jacen's back supportively. "Look a little happier, Jacen. This is the birth of your daughter here."

"My daughter," Jacen repeated with a silly grin, as if trying to get used to the words. "My daughter."

"[For someone used to handling living creatures and baby animals, you seem oddly conflicted by Allana's birth]," Lowbacca said good-naturedly.

Jacen rolled his eyes at his larger friend. "I know, but she's a bit more than a baby animal, Lowie. She's…well…a part of _me_. I can feel her in the Force, like a part of my heart. It's scary in many ways, and even though I told myself I was ready for it…it's just…wow."

"Welcome to parenthood," Mara Jade Skwalker said, her children now at Tenel Ka's bedside looking up at their 'niece' with amazed eyes. "You'll now spend the rest of your life either fearing for your children, wanting to wring their necks, or being so proud of them and being at awe that they came from you."

"Thanks Aunt Mara," Jacen shook his head ruefully.

"It's too bad Jaina couldn't be here," Zekk said. "Did she say why she couldn't make it?"

Jacen nodded. "Trouble between the Chiss and Imperials. According to her message, it sounded like the entire thing is a tinderbox ready for that one spark. She doesn't think she'll have any free time for the near future, but wished me luck and told me to send holos."

The doors to the med-room opened, and General Livette entered with a grim expression on her face, instantly casting a pall over the festive mood.

"General?" Jacen raised an eyebrow.

"I apologize for intruding on this happy occasion, but there has been an…incident."

Jacen quickly moved back to his wife and daughter's side to help shield the newborn from any negative impressions as the atmosphere grew grimmer.

"Proceed," Tenel Ka said with a curt nod of her head.

"Thank you, Your Highness. Just an hour ago, four Hapan Battle Dragons and their escorts were engaged and destroyed by a Corellian force of unknown size by the Relephon Moons. Details are still coming in, but the additional ships sent to the Relephon system report that the Corellians are no longer present."

"[Relephon, that's deep in Hapan space]," Lowbacca growled. "[What are the Corellians doing there?]"

"Unknown," Livette shook her head. "House AlGray, the house that controls the Relephon region, denies any knowledge and appears to be innocent in this matter. She has pledged her House's full cooperation. One of the Battle Dragons destroyed belong to her security forces. I am told that all hands were lost."

"And the Corellian ships? Were any destroyed?"

"From what the Ducha AlGray reports, only a few fighters," Livette replied. "The bulk of the Corellian force suffered relatively minor damage due to the surprise nature of their attack. We've sent word to Corellia demanding an explanation, and have received the usual stalling in response."

The thick tension in the air was felt by all as they all knew just how serious the situation had become. If Tenel Ka failed to retaliate, members of the nobility would jump on this as a moment of weakness and try and remove her from power. If Tenel Ka did retaliate, war with the Corellians was unavoidable. The timing of the attack, pretty much at the same moment she was giving birth to her daughter, was suspect, but there was little she could do about that now.

"General Livette, ready the Royal Navy and reinforce all outlying sectors. Let them know that deadly force is authorized should they encounter any Corellian military vessels. Let the Corellians know this as well, their provocations have gone on long enough."

**SP(Sneak Peak End)SP**

**A\N:** And there you go. Each part is a snippet from a different chapter of A Fate Unseen! As seen here, the chronological order of events will not match up to the order of the chapters. Each chapter will focus on advancing a storyline surrounding one place or character. Events will sometimes coincide with one and other, however, giving you a look at two different sides of the same conflict (Hapans and Corellians as an example). For the most part, there will be six small story/character arcs within three larger story arcs, in one central plot. Yes, I've finally lost it, just keep swimming, just keep swimming…

So, until November, this is An Origami Fish, thanking you all once more and signing off!


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